


Until We've Caught Our Breath

by Ha_neul



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, LOTS of background characters and relationships (not involving obi or ani), M/M, Obi-Wan is a trans man, Trans Character, Trans Pregnancy, if you like kotor then you're in for a ride, jedi council discourse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 57,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ha_neul/pseuds/Ha_neul
Summary: An abrupt end to the Clone Wars and death of Darth Sidious brings unrest and distrust towards the Jedi Order along with the desire for much of the Order to be reformed.Obi-Wan and Anakin are just trying to catch a break.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by the Knights of the Old Republic games! you don't have to have played the games or understood the canon to read it as things will get explained later on in the story, but if you're already familiar with it I hope you enjoy what I've decided to do with much of what's discussed in the games!
> 
> As a forewarning Obi-Wan is a trans man who becomes pregnant, if that makes you uncomfortable please don't read this! Obi-Wan is trans but hasn't had any surgeries etc. and is comfortable with his body for the most part. I am trans myself, so I'll try my best to write with what I'm familiar with!
> 
> Also this is unbeta-ed, sorry for mistakes oops.
> 
> ps i don't usually write smut so idk if there'll be more later in the story but there ya go i'll try my best to get updates out frequently but i'm a busy artist haha

If Obi-Wan had to read one more report he felt like his head was going to explode.

He wouldn't be caught dead admitting to the Council that they were _boring_ to read but if he was being honest he'd rather stare at paint dry than another sentence. Frowning, he rubs his forehead and sighs as he sets down what seems like the twentieth datapad he's looked at this evening. He rises from his seat and makes his way over to the cupboards in his small room.

A snack certainly wouldn’t hurt.

A quick glance at the clock tells him that it's a quarter past four and Anakin should be returning from his latest outing with Ahsoka in an hour or two. They're not really lessons, more like the two scouring Coruscant for any chance to stir up trouble. The two are a force to be reckoned with whether it be in battle or betting on street races.

He's glad Anakin doesn't push for him to tag along, he's much too old to be participating in leisure sports much less _illegal_ ones.

The routine the two have developed during the mess that is the aftermath of the Clone Wars is admittedly a hectic one. The Jedi Order, in it’s flurry of negotiations and treaties, leaves little time for any Jedi to relax. Particularly Obi-Wan, hard at work consistently checking and proofreading the reports sent to him by the Council.

He’s glad that Palpatine is dead, his lies having been exposed early on in the war led to a swift end to what could have been a terrible outcome for the Order.

Anakin, on the other hand, seemed to be taking things harder.

He had trusted the ex-chancellor with secrets and his feelings, only to have them used to manipulate and deceive him. Anakin had been distraught, worried that maybe he deserved to be punished as well, for confiding in a man who could have killed them all.

The first week after the end to the war was tense, Obi-Wan reassuring Anakin that nothing was his fault, no one had seen it coming after all.

For now, Anakin seems content to ignore what’s happening around him. He’s taken to mingling with more of the Council and the other Jedi, trying to be more of a friend to Ahsoka than a teacher. Whatever he’s off doing during the day seems to uplift his mood, as every evening when he and Obi-Wan meet he’s relaxed and carefree.

Their relationship isn’t new per se, but still budding. It’s only been a couple months since hidden kisses and touches have been exchanged only a short time before the war had ended. Everything happening too fast and too slow all the same.

Obi-Wan is startled out of his thoughts when warm arms surround his waist in an embrace.

“Anakin!” He laughs as he brings his hands to up to return the backwards hug. A face is buried in his shoulder and he can feel the other man’s breath on his neck.

“Still busy playing errand boy for the council?” Anakin murmurs into his skin.

Obi-Wan smiles, rubbing the arms around him. “Of course,” he replies. “There’s a lot more to the Republic than a couple of diplomats that needs attending to.”

Clean-up crew would better suit what the Jedi Order’s task is now, paying for the remnants of the war and disorder it’s caused to the Core Worlds.

“Mhm…” Anakin hums in response as his hands start to roam higher on Obi-Wan’s body, “Sounds boring.”

Obi-Wan huffs, “Of course it’s boring, anything involving words and using what’s behind that thick skull of yours is boring to you.” He taps a finger against one of Anakin’s hands, which is hovering dangerously close to the opening of his robes.

“Speaking of your brain, it seems you're thinking with something else right now.” Obi-Wan remarks. “At least tell me how your day went before you make any other plans for the evening?” Obi-Wan asks, leaning back comfortably in Anakin's embrace.  

Anakin relents, but not before placing a loud kiss on his cheek. “Fine.”

Obi-Wan is more than eager as Anakin to participate in a little stress relief but he knows he should be keeping an eye on the other man's true feelings. Moments like these are nice, keeping less secrets between the two being a big improvement in their relationship.

“We hung out around the lower parts of Coruscant today,” Anakin starts, chin resting on the top of Obi-Wan’s head. His height makes Anakin tower over Obi-Wan sometimes, but he doesn't mind it. He feels safe and admittedly a bit turned on by Anakin's size.

Obi-Wan's glad he's facing away from Anakin as his cheeks redden at his own thoughts.

“Snips wanted to see if we could get some info on the state of the general public’s feelings about the political situation. Her own little reconnaissance mission she called it.” Anakin steps closer to Obi-Wan, chest to his back and knees knocking into the other man's legs, crowding him.

“So I tagged along, made sure she stayed out of trouble. Decided she'd be fine on her own and…”

Obi-Wan gasps, “You left her by herself in the undercity? What were you think-”

“Relax!” Anakin chuckles as he squeezes Obi-Wan.

“I didn't tell you but Barriss was with us too, she's a trustworthy Jedi now and I'm sure they'll both be fine on their own.” Obi-Wan relaxes back into Anakin’s grip.

“So you ditched her so you could come back early just to see me, how romantically irresponsible.” Obi-Wan says sarcastically.

Anakin clicks his tongue as his wandering hands find the opening to Obi-Wan’s robes.

“You’re happy to see me, plus it’s been awhile since we’ve had time to ourselves don’t you agree?” His hands meet bare skin and Anakin grins, “Are you not wearing anything under this? Were you waiting for me all day?”

He moves to grasp one of Obi-Wan’s breasts firmly and Obi-Wan shivers at Anakin’s cold hands. “Who’s the one thinking with something other than their head now?” Anakin mocks.

Any other day and Obi-Wan would playfully remove Anakin’s hands from him and tell him to calm down, but it has been a long while and he admits he’s been waiting for a day like this to come by.

“We don’t see each other often.” Obi-Wan agrees softly, “And the war’s over so there isn’t much fighting so I haven’t found a need to bind as often.” Two hands are kneading his chest now and Obi-Wan sighs as he leans back, letting Anakin support his weight.

When he had first found out about Anakin’s odd fascination with his chest he didn’t know how to feel about it. He had spent much of his youth trying to conceal it the best he could, fit in with the other boys, don’t draw attention. That was years ago of course, before Siri and even before Satine. It’s not a big deal, the only ones who really know are Vokara Che and few of the clones, like Cody, hiding things when it comes to medical is always risky.

Anakin of course, knew before the start of their relationship shortly before the Clone Wars ended, and it never rose as an issue. He’s never been uncomfortable around Anakin, and Anakin seems more than eager to show him just how much he doesn’t mind.

There’s one hand still on his chest as the other drops down to lift the top of Obi-Wan’s robes, delving underneath his pants. “Not even a kiss before you jump straight to it?” Obi-Wan asks half embarrassed by how eager he is as Anakin.

“You have no manners at all-” Obi-Wan says with a gasp when Anakin only presses inside him with a finger in response.

The silence of the room is broken with just how wet he is and Obi-Wan covers his face with a hand as he blushes red. Anakin’s mouth is at work on his neck and he knows it’s going to leave a mark he’ll have to hide later.

“Can I fuck you?” Anakin asks as he turns Obi-Wan head towards him to bring their lips together in a sweet kiss. Obi-Wan gives him a quick nod and kisses him back firmly. He grinds his ass back against Anakin's dick when another finger is added and licks his lips.

“Of course.” Obi-Wan replies as he spreads his legs a little wider, “Against the counter like a pair of animals, be my guest.” He leans over to rest his elbows on the counter, turning his head to look at Anakin with a raised brow.

Anakin shakes his head, reaching forward to pull Obi-Wan’s pants further down his legs. “You can't enjoy anything without complaining about it can you?” Anakin teases, undoing the belt at his waist and bringing his cock out.

The angle is impersonal, he can't see Obi-Wan well from here which a shame. He enjoys watching Obi-Wan fall apart, breasts bouncing and eyes screwed shut when he's getting fucked.

“You think I'm the one who complains too much? What about the time you- Ooh!” Obi-Wan groans as Anakin finally slides into him.

There's little backtalk from Obi-Wan after that. Anakin grips Obi-Wan’s hips firmly as he leisurely thrusts into him. The two try to keep their noise level to a minimum, the temple walls are thin at best and an unsuspecting jedi wandering the hall would be in for an unfortunate surprise if not.

Obi-Wan braces himself against the counter when Anakin picks up pace, soft moans escaping him when the other man reaches down to rub his clit with a finger. There’s a steady stream of “Anakin, Anakin, Anakin,” escaping Obi-Wan’s mouth as he gets closer to release.

“Obi-Wan, we didn’t use a-”

“I know, I know,” Obi-Wan answers back hurriedly, “It’s too late for that now just-.”

“You want me to just- Inside are you sure?” Anakin awkwardly asks, rhythm stuttering and Obi-Wan let’s out a frustrated noise.

“Yes, yes, stop asking questions.” Obi-Wan cuts him off and curses when Anakin almost slams him into the counter.

Anakin's cock is warm inside of him and the pressure fills him in all the right ways. The drag and pull makes Obi-Wan feel like he’s in a daze and he shuts his eyes as he rides out the last of the high.

Anakin groans loudly as he comes inside Obi-Wan, fingers rapidly working to finish Obi-Wan off as well. It doesn’t take long before Obi-Wan comes with a quiet cry and slapping Anakin’s hand softly away when the pressure is too overstimulating.

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan mutters when Anakin slips out, come dripping down his thigh and onto the carpet, “That’s going to leave a horrid mess.”

Anakin rolls his eyes and grabs a washcloth to clean themselves up and is kneeling down on the floor when he looks up at Obi-Wan who is leaning with his back against the counter now. His robes are still disheveled, breasts barely exposed and his legs are crossed as if warding off the phantom feeling of emptiness. He looks beautiful, Anakin thinks, not the poster-boy of the Jedi Order the council wants him to be, but an ordinary person.

“Hey, you OK?” Anakin says as he rises to his feet, the last of the mess gone. He runs a hand Obi-Wan’s messy hair and smiles.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Obi-Wan replies hollowly before he meets Anakin’s gaze. “I love you.”

Anakin tries to stop the lovesick grin that appears on his face but it’s useless and he leans in to give Obi-Wan a kiss. “I love you too, don’t worry about it too much. If something happens we’ll deal with it when we have to.” He pats Obi-Wan’s stomach reassuringly, “Mistakes happen, Force knows I’ve made a ton. It’s not new.”

Obi-Wan laughs at that and readjusts his robes, shooing Anakin’s hands away.

“The Council won’t be happy.”

“Fuck the Council.” Anakin deadpans before adding, “Don’t give me that look.”

Anakin tosses the washcloth into the sink for Obi-Wan to deal with later as he walks over to couch in Obi-Wan’s small quarters. He throws himself down onto it, feet and all propped up. “They’ve been working you way too hard. They’ve been working all of us way too hard.”

“A war is still raging, Anakin. The Clone Wars may have ended but that means there’s a big clean-up that comes with it.”

He waves a hand, “So? The Jedi Order was never supposed to be involved in this war anyway remember? The Republic sucked us into it, like they always do. We’re peacekeepers not...Look it’s all in the code alright? We don’t owe the Republic anything, we shouldn’t have to deal with…” Anakin lifts of the datapad Obi-Wan had been reading earlier, eyes scanning the glowing text, “‘The most efficient way to end the tension between the royalty on Shu-Torun following the engagement of their eldest daughter to-”

Anakin abruptly stops reading and raises and eyebrow as he looks up at Obi-Wan, “They’re making you play matchmaker to a couple of monarchs on a planet we barely have need of trading ties for?”

“I am not- Oh give that here you’re going to lose my place.” Obi-Wan says as he walks over to snatch the datapad out of Anakin’s hand, placing it back onto the table where it was previously. “I don’t agree with anything the Council is doing right now either, Anakin but I’m in no position of power to oppose it. Majority rules.”

Anakin blows a raspberry, “What kind of Council are you if you don’t talk it out? Does Yoda just push you all around and do what he likes? I’ve had a couple private talks with him before trust me I can vouch if you can’t.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous today, you know that?” Obi-Wan says, hands on his hips, “You’re right but you’re ridiculous.”

“I try my best.”

Obi-Wan situates himself next to him on the couch, leaning his head on his shoulder as he rests his body on Anakin’s.

“I don’t want to talk about the war anymore.” He says quietly and Anakin wraps his arms around him in response.

The Council is a topic the two try to avoid these days. After the end of the Clone Wars it’s been all too evident that corruption in the Order is too easy. Obi-Wan wants it to change, to reform it, as do several other members, but it’s Yoda’s say in the end. He’s tied to the old ways as stubborn as can be.

The atmosphere in the Order is suffocating Obi-Wan thinks, he’s had many times in his life where he’s wanted to leave, now being no exception. It is especially unhealthy for someone like Anakin to be trapped here as well and if nothing changes soon he fears they’ll be forced to leave together for the sake of their well-being.

He doesn't know how to broach the subject to Anakin. He knows Anakin thinks of leaving often but would he leave with Obi-Wan? To settle down to a life less exciting than that of a Jedi, a place where are there no battles to be fought and empty of conflict.

It’s a cruel thing to do, Obi-Wan thinks, to use a child as an excuse to convince the Order to leave him alone, but this won’t be a surprise for Anakin. He knows the other man longs for a family, he sees the way the way Anakin treats Ahsoka. How he treats the other younger members of the order and how he even treats the droids, of all things, in the temple.

Perhaps this will be the final push Obi-Wan needs to tell the Council the truth, that he will be leaving soon, and he can only pray their reaction be a peaceful one.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual this is unbeta-ed so sorry for any mistakes! also we're still getting to the real meat of the story so bear with me folks

The relative calmness of the temple lasts for about three weeks. In between, Obi-Wan and Anakin are accosted constantly by various members of the Order to run errands.

They have little time to see each other, and even Anakin is much too busy with meetings that Ahsoka is left to study under a couple of the other Jedi. Anakin disagrees with this at first, but Obi-Wan reassures him it’s a commonplace practice, the war just left little Jedi to disposal before.

Much of Obi-Wan’s time is spent with Depa Billaba, the two pour over the many treaties and statements the Order must put together. He considers Depa one of his closest friends and he enjoys her company immensely.

“Is it just me or have we become...some kind of counselors for the Republic?” Depa asks one morning. She and Obi-Wan are seated around a table in the library examining just a few of the many new reports that have come in since last night.

“We as in the Order? Or just us?” He asks with mirth.

Depa is a mystery to him even though they’ve been friends since they were younglings. The council considers her just as much of a mystery as well. Her emotions run strong, perhaps not as strong as Anakin’s but definitely enough that her loyalties have often been questioned.

“All these issues the Republic is having us oversee...They’re small, little things. Most of these conflicts could easily be resolved by themselves. It’s like they’ve gotten lazy, like they’re using the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan thinks on this as he absently taps the datapad in his hand. It does seem odd that the Republic would want the Jedi to be so involved in their politics especially after the recent events. If anything many of those who make up the Senate wish to cut ties to the Jedi Order’s involvement with anything involving the rebuilding.

“Maybe it’s a distraction.” He concludes. “Or maybe it’s punishment. We are, partly at fault.”

Depa leans back in her seat, surprised at Obi-Wan’s last statement.

“Are we? Did we not try everything in our part to keep peace?” They aren’t fighting words, but inquisitive and curious ones.

“The clones.” Obi-Wan says, uncomfortable to broach the subject further but Depa’s eyes widen and she nods.

“Of course. That’s only one of many issues we’re responsible for. There’s something else that troubles you though, what else?”

Her gaze is unrelenting and sharp. Obi-Wan trusts Depa with his life but sometimes he just doesn’t know. How much of what he hides is safe to admit to her? She questions the code with the same intensity that Anakin does at times but for all their time together she is still someone he just can’t read.

“The Order.” He starts, “The Jedi. Us. Are we not always the root for error? The Sith don’t appear out of nowhere, they’re byproducts of our own creation.”

“Obi-Wan that was thousands of years ago, surely we've improved somewhat.” Depa reasons.

“No, no, I'm not saying we have a potential Sith faction uprising on our hands I just think....Don't you think we influence it? You know the code is…” He scrambles to find a word that won't offend,  “...faulty. At best.”

Depa crosses her legs, face seemingly in deep thought. Obi-Wan’s eyes avert back to his datapad and he resists the urge to stroke his beard in discomfort.

“The code exists for a reason.” Depa firmly states and she stops him before he can reply, “But I think certain circumstances lately mean that sometimes it’s not always the right choice.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “Honestly, I’m not too surprised a question like this would be coming from you, you’re almost as bad as Caleb is about the code.”

Obi-Wan laughs. “I don’t know if I should be offended that you’re comparing me to a child.”

“Certainly not. Caleb is a lot more flippant about how he chooses to address rules, then again he has time to understand. Now you,” Depa says as she stands up from her seat across Obi-Wan to the one next to him. “Are an old man.”

He gives Depa a disapproving look and she laughs as she plops herself down into the chair, knees knocking into his playfully.

“Don’t give me that look I’m not finished.”

“I’m honestly worried about where this is going.” Obi-Wan says setting down his datapad to give Depa his full attention.

“As I was saying, you’ve had a lot of time to contemplate whether the Order is the right path or not and frankly, Obi-Wan I’ve known you for almost twenty years and it feels like you ask the exact same question every time.” Depa drops her voice low along with a bad attempt at Obi-Wan’s accent, “‘Billaba, I don’t think I belong in the Order.’”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and Depa dramatically raises her arms in the air as she stares at him, eyes wide with wonder. “Oh my!” She exclaims. “My good friend, Kenobi! How could this ever be? What has changed your mind? We’ve been through thick and thin together! Surely it’s not _The Code_.”

Her posture relaxes once more and she brings her hand to cover her mouth as she feigns shyness, once again imitating Obi-Wan’s voice. “Oh, Depa! I think I’ve...fallen in love.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” He says laughing as he shoves Depa softly. “You’re killing me, I did _not sound_ like that when I thought I had a crush on Satine.”

Depa raises her eyebrows.

“ _Or_ Siri. Or you! Please, get to the point already, this is so embarrassing.”

Laughing, Depa puts a comforting hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“I know, I’m just saying, you never come to me about the code unless you’ve gotten yourself attached to some other unsuspecting victim.”

She’s not completely wrong but also the truth of her words sting just a little. He feels that no matter how hard he tries to stay detached there’s just no use. His love is just strong as Anakin’s but Anakin loves recklessly and without shame. Anakin loves his friends, his mother, and all of his companions openly if not dangerously.

Obi-Wan doesn’t vocalize it but he feels unworthy of that love regardless of their relationship. He’s afraid too, not that his past trysts ever ended terribly. Satine stays close, the two occasionally going on a friendly outing or two and Siri is no longer a sore subject. He rather forget his crisis upon thinking he was in love with Depa but it was deep affection for her as a friend and someone he could lean on for support.

He knows the word others would use to describe the feelings he has for them is love, platonic or not, but at the same time it’s a forbidden whisper among the halls. It is a shameful, dangerous, and vile thing that twists the hearts of Jedi and lead them down the path of darkness.

It’s a lie and a truth all the same. Of course love is dangerous but perhaps not wholly evil. He believes maybe the Order has just never put the effort into making it work. Love can be twisted and used for good just as the force can be bent to the will of it’s master in whatever form they choose, evil or good.

“So who is it now?” Depa prompts Obi-Wan.

He doesn’t think it’s time to tell her about Anakin, he feels it will never be time. Their relationship is indescribable and nothing like Siri, Satine, or anything else he’s decided to suppress from his past.

“I feel that with recent events, love or not,” Obi-Wan emphasizes, “that the Order goes against what I believe.”

Silence he expected, or perhaps shock, but all he finds in Depa’s gaze is sadness.

“Who?” She simply asks.

He disregards her.

“That’s unimportant.”

“Obi-Wan, this isn’t like you. The Order is everything to you.”

“I…” He hesitates. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Before Depa can respond there’s an unexpected surge in the Force, a thick, rich pulse of anger that Obi-Wan can feel from his and Anakin’s bond that causes his head to spin. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching interrupting their conversation.

The source of the oncoming headache is barreling right towards the two of them in the quiet library. Obi-Wan and Depa both look up to see Anakin, robes in a flurry behind him as he nears their table.

“Me and Ahsoka were found out.” He says immediately and Depa gives Obi-Wan a questioning look.

“Master Billaba can hear this too it’s fine, she’ll probably be notified of it anyway, Windu was the one who gave the order.”

Obi-Wan sighs and rubs his temples as he rises in his seat.

“Ahsoka and Anakin have been doing some recon lately in the undercity levels of Coruscant.” Obi-Wan explains to Depa.

“Without approval of the council.” Depa finishes for him. “Of course, I’ll leave you two to it. Force knows that man will talk my ear off about this in our meeting.”

Before he can turn to leave with Anakin however, Depa reaches for his hand.

“Remember Obi-Wan, I’m here if you need to speak to me. About anything. We can discuss today further if you need to I will not judge you, I am not the council.”

He mutters a quick thank you and awkwardly shuffles away to catch up with Anakin’s quick strides as he makes his way back down the hall from where he came.

“Your room or mine?” Anakin asks as Obi-Wan trails behind him.

“Mine is fine, yours is a mess, no offense.”

Anakin grins albeit with his eyebrows still furrowed with agitation.

“None taken, yours is more comfortable anyway.”

“I actually let the sun into my room every now and then.” Obi-Wan replies.

“I think I’ve seen enough suns to last me a lifetime, c’mon.” Anakin gestures for Obi-Wan to enter first and he swiftly closes the door behind him.

The datapads that littered the table are no longer there but there’s a fair amount of laundry stacked in a corner along with what seems to be the start of a withering plant. An old book is open on the table with pages scattered across it.

“Maybe we should go to my place, you been that busy lately?”

Obi-Wan quickly moves to stuff the clothes on the floor into a basket and he shuts the blinds.

“I admit the council has been running me a bit ragged.” He says before dusting off his robes and sitting down on the couch to clean up the mess of papers on the table in front of him. “What happened with Mace?”

Anakin huffs and crosses his arms as he takes a seat adjacent to Obi-Wan.

“It wasn’t such a big deal that he found out about me and Ahsoka leaving the temple, or going to the undercity, or the recon.” Anakin lists off.

“I assume it was something much worse?”

“The racing.”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan says, voice full of weariness. He wasn’t fond of Anakin and Ahsoka’s daytime shenanigans involving dangerous machines but it made them happy so he had ignored it. He can’t help but be a bit relieved that they’ve been seemingly banned from it.

“I’m not mad about that though! I completely understand why I was out of line.” Anakin admits the racing was just because everything that was happening lately was just so boring. No missions and no more war. The peace was fine but his hands itched to do something and he could only repair so many droids before there was nothing left to fix.

“Ahsoka’s banned from leaving the temple, or seeing me for training until otherwise notified.” The ban will likely last for less than a month but his tone still seethes with bitterness. “It’s so stupid, they’re punishing her but not me. It was my fault to begin with, I’m the adult in this situation she shouldn’t be getting the blame.”

Obi-Wan understands Anakin’s anger with Windu and the council now. He can also see why they might be punishing Ahsoka to get through to Anakin.

“Who is she to be studying under in the meantime?”

“Luminara, Which I guess is better than someone else. Barriss is a Knight now anyway so she has the free time.” Ahsoka is also more familiar with Luminara so Anakin doesn’t worry about them getting along too badly.

He’s still angered by the action itself.

“The council is treating me like I’m dangerous.” Ever since Palpatine’s plans had been foiled and it had been revealed Anakin had been manipulated, it seems the entire temple viewed him as a liability.

“They always did this. Ever since I was little and not even just to me, to you too!”

Obi-Wan looks up from the stack of papers in his hands. “Me when I was training you?” He asks confused. He can think of many times when the council treated Anakin wrongly but never himself.

“No, no.” Anakin shakes his head. “You growing up, I’m talking strictly the padawans. I’ve heard about how Qui-Gon didn’t want you and how he treated you too.”

“Qui-Gon did his best with what he was given and allowed. The code-”

Anakin scowls. “The code, of course.” He laughs. “Has it maybe occurred to you that the code is holding us back? You knew it. All that stuff that happened to me when I was a kid. The other padawans and the bullying. You didn’t do anything."

Obi-Wan, papers long forgotten on the table, rubs at his arms awkwardly. “I didn’t...I was given orders. Anakin I tried to do something about it but I…” He knows the padawans that grew up with Anakin disliked him. Anakin didn’t have many friends growing up aside from the odd child or two who would give him the time of day.

No one wanted to be friends with an ex-slave who had somehow worked himself into their perfect Order. Stronger and more skilled, easily able to best them in class.

Yoda and Windu and the rest of the general consensus of the council’s orders were strict. Anakin had to learn to forget about these children and move on. To dwell on anger and hatred made him no better than the other kids.

It was wrong but there was nothing Obi-Wan could do than more or less convince Anakin to leave the order completely. He still feels at fault for much of Anakin’s loneliness.

Anakin dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “I know, I was angry back then. I didn’t understand but now I do. It’s happening to me now too. The Order tells us to forget that pain, release it into the force, release that anger. It wasn’t you that was the problem, it was the other children. But who was punished? It was you.” His point isn’t making very much sense Anakin realizes and he grinds his teeth in frustration.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say? The council and the Order see themselves as the ones who aren’t at fault. It’s their students. I can’t control my emotions. They blame it on me and you. Human emotion is natural though isn’t it? You can’t just forget or lose something like that.”

“I had a discussion with Yoda once, about you asking me to leave the Order when you were still a padawan.” Obi-Wan confesses.

“That…” Anakin trails off. “That was a long time ago. I was barely twelve, I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“I know but you knew enough outside what you had been taught here that you could make that decision on your own. And you did. You chose to stay.”

Anakin blushes and he avoids Obi-Wan’s eyes. “That was right after the Carnelion IV mission wasn’t it?”

Obi-Wan blinks. “I believe so, why?”

Hands hiding his face and with a push to the table with his foot as he lays back in his seat, Anakin groans. “You remember Kolara?”

“The young human girl who stole your lightsaber?”

“I kind of developed a crush on her after that mission.” Anakin says in a small voice.

This information is definitely new to Obi-Wan.

“You didn’t stay in the Order because you thought my lesson about the Carnelion’s was a good one. You stayed because you thought you’d see her again!”

Another groan and Anakin curls in on himself with more embarrassment.

“I was twelve! One track mind, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head in disbelief and mutters something under his breath about Carnelion art.

“As I was saying, Yoda himself agreed your path didn’t necessarily belong with the Order."

This surprises Anakin and he wonders just how much of his destiny has been discussed behind his back.

“Too late now, huh?” Anakin says with a sad smile. “I’ve got a lifetime of broken rules behind me and now you’ve gotten dragged under.”

Their relationship has always been a rocky one and with the tension of the Clone Wars it had felt like everything had been falling apart. Now or never Anakin had told himself when he had confessed to Obi-Wan, the two of them huddled together on another freezing planet in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you understand why I don’t like it here, Obi-Wan?” He’s calmed down and now fiddling with the leather on the glove of his right hand absently.

“Of course.” Obi-Wan says. “After everything that’s happened with the Chancellor and the council lately, you’re not the one to blame. I agree with you, something needs to change.”

That gives him Anakin’s attention and the man looks up at him in shock.

“Really? You’re...You’re not pregnant right now are you?”

It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to blush and he wraps his arms around his stomach protectively before sputtering out a quick ‘no’. He had gotten himself examined the week before and despite their carelessness it seems nothing had come of it.

Anakin runs a hand through his own hair nervously and laughs. “Oh, I just thought. Well, I didn’t think you’d be on my side about all this. I mean, baby or not. What do you propose we do?”

“Short of leaving the order?” Obi-Wan asks. “I’m not sure. I’ve softly been pushing the Order to maybe look at themselves but I’ve been ignored. And well, the aftermath is why I was with Master Billaba this afternoon. We believe it’s a distraction.”

Anakin kicks back again to lounge in his seat and sighs.

“Maybe we should speak to Padmé. She knows what’s been going on with the Republic lately. Maybe she can use some of her gentle persuasion.” The punching motion Anakin makes with his hands implies nothing ‘gentle’ of course.

“Perhaps.” Obi-Wan says, getting up and walking over to where Anakin is seated. “I’ll speak with Satine when I get a chance, she’s been asking for a meeting lately and Padmé is bound to be accompanying her. They’re dating now, you know.”

Anakin grins and adjusts his legs as he pats his knee implying for Obi-Wan to take a seat. “Are they? No one tells me anything these days.” Anakin says as Obi-Wan settles himself on his lap, arms reaching to wrap themselves around Anakin’s shoulders.

“They’re busy women.” Obi-Wan supplies as he leans closer towards Anakin’s face. He’s met with a soft kiss on his lips and Anakin rubs his nose to Obi-Wan’s in an affectionate gesture. “This sounds like plan, then.” Anakin whispers as his hands settle on Obi-Wan’s thigh and side.

Obi-Wan can feel the impatient tap of Anakin’s fingers on his body as the other man patiently asks without words for permission to continue his touches. He clears his throat and backs away slightly.

“Do you want to have a child?” He says a tad bit shakily. He searches Anakin’s face for any sort of reaction but his view is obstructed when Anakin takes his lips in a rather forceful kiss that has Obi-Wan’s eyes screwed shut from the sheer passion of it.

“Of course.” Anakin breathes out in amazement when he finally lets Obi-Wan go. “Are you asking? I don’t care about the council’s reaction if you want to. We can always just leave with the child if it all goes to shit.” Anakin’s reasonings are so simple and laughable that Obi-Wan can’t help but smile in return.

“I want to be able to give you that. I want us to have this.” Obi-Wan says stroking Anakin’s dark brown curls of hair. “If you’ll have me.”

He shuts Obi-Wan up with another kiss which proves to be difficult because Anakin can’t stop laughing at the same time. He’s whispering ‘of course’ against Obi-Wan’s lips and enveloping him in a tight hug.

Obi-Wan can’t think of any other time he’s felt happier since the war than right now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! early update this week (not that i'm on a set schedule or anything)  
> unbeta-ed (and maybe written at like 4am) so sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> for those familiar with kotor i will be following parts of the canon featuring kotor 2 on the light-sided revan & exile paths with minor changes to revan's past history etc. so expect a little rewriting.
> 
> for those unfamiliar, don't worry! stuff will make sense soon (and maybe be a little more interesting if u don't know how the game ends)

It’s still dark when Obi-Wan wakes. The only sound that can be heard is the distant hum of Coruscant’s morning rush as day breaks. 

He’s tucked into Anakin’s side, their legs entwined, the man’s arms surrounding him protectively. His nose is against Obi-Wan’s head and there’s a warm spot where Anakin’s breath meets his hair.

The bed is only meant for one person but that issue is easily rectified considering Anakin doesn’t mind Obi-Wan half sprawled on top of him. 

They’re still clothed in their usual Jedi garments, the two of them had planned to lay down for a bit before Anakin had to return to his own quarters. Of course they had both fallen asleep instead. 

Obi-Wan blinks sleepily before he attempts to dislodge himself from Anakin’s grip but he’s only squeezed tighter. 

“Where are you going ‘m comfy.” Anakin mumbles, eyes still closed.

“You should’ve head back to your room hours ago, it’s morning.” Obi-Wan replies.

Anakin snorts. He’s much too content holding Obi-Wan close to care about rules and being caught.

“No one’s gonna care. Council’s avoiding me anyway.” His hands run down Obi-Wan’s sides and he breathes deeply, taking in the older man’s comforting smell. “Won’t hurt to stay in another hour.”

Obi-Wan can’t help but agree that staying in sounds nice, and he definitely doesn’t mind the safety of Anakin’s embrace. He lifts his head to place a kiss on Anakin’s jaw.  “Let me up, I’ll be right back.”

Anakin gets a groan in response but reluctantly the arms holding him down let up and Obi-Wan carefully maneuvers his way out of the small space. He heads into the small bathroom space, shutting the door.

There’s a sound of the sink being used followed by various other clinking noises before Obi-Wan returns, Anakin still in his bed. While he was gone the man had taken to covering his face with his mechno-arm, attempting to block out the light from the ‘fresher.

Obi-Wan takes a second to examine himself, his robes are wrinkled and he crinkles his nose at their state. With a quick glance at Anakin he smiles to himself as he begins undoing the ties of his robes until he’s stripped down to nothing.

Throwing a leg over Anakin’s waist he sets himself down on the prone body, hands running down Anakin’s chest. The rough cotton of Anakin's robes rub against his bare skin and Obi-Wan can't help but bite his bottom lip as he grinds his hips over Anakin's.

There's cold leather running up one of his thighs and cold skin on the other as Anakin finally opens his eyes, hands coming around to touch Obi-Wan.

“You're playing dirty.” Anakin says, eyes roaming Obi-Wan’s naked form. The room is still dark with the sun yet to rise but he can make out the soft curve of Obi-Wan’s breasts and the hips Anakin is currently trapped under. 

“I can't sleep.” Obi-Wan simply reasons, grabbing Anakin's flesh hand and moving it to his chest. An open invitation for the other man to do as he pleases. “I want you to touch me.” He whispers.

If Anakin wasn't hard earlier he certainly is now and Obi-Wan can feel the telltale lump underneath Anakin's robes that he's currently sitting on. 

“Do I tell you how beautiful you are?” Anakin says as he fondles Obi-Wan’s chest, cold hands playing with one of his nipples and taking in Obi-Wan’s short gasps of pleasure.

Leaning forward to give Anakin a better angle he cocks his head. “Oh, so you only like me for my body?”

Anakin gives him a toothy grin, settling himself on his elbows so he can line his face up with Obi-Wan’s chest. “Of course not, but I don't hear you complaining.” Anakin says before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking lightly. Obi-Wan breathes in sharply through his teeth and he can feel himself getting wet from the adept attention Anakin is giving his chest.

Anakin moves on to the other one, licking and taking the small nub between his teeth gently until Obi-Wan finally tangles his hands in his hair tugging on Anakin's curls.

“Mind putting your hands to a different use?” Obi-Wan asks. He's flushed with arousal and the question comes out as a suggestion but Anakin knows it's Obi-Wan's shy way of demanding ‘I'm horny, please move on already.’ Although Obi-Wan would never admit it. 

Sex is fairly casual with the two of them. It's an intense bonding, of course, due to their connection to the force but also it shows another side of Obi-Wan that Anakin quite enjoys. 

Aside from the obvious.

He rarely gets to see Obi-Wan carefree with his body and heart. It's a warming feeling and he's happy that Obi-Wan feels comfortable enough to share such an intimate thing with him. 

Obi-Wan's body never bothered Anakin, different or not he would still love it the same. Even if Obi-Wan decided to change his appearance in the future, he would support him regardless.

Gender is an odd topic among the galaxy. It's not uncommon for there to be many people that exist outside of the binary. If anything there is no binary in the first place considering the sheer number of different cultures and species.

It's unfortunate that the Jedi Order be human dominated causing Obi-Wan to be more cautious of where he places his trust and Anakin wishes not all Jedi were so close-minded like the children he grew up with.

Nevertheless, here right now with these small moments he gets to experience with Obi-Wan mean everything to him. 

Anakin brings his flesh hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers in preparation. He nearly moans when Obi-Wan spreads his legs further, leaning back and using a hand to spread his lower lips open for Anakin's viewing.

He's also lucky for this Anakin thinks, removing his fingers from his mouth to bring them to Obi-Wan’s hole. He likes this dirtier side of Obi-Wan and he won't lie and say just the thought of Obi-Wan spread open and tight around his cock hasn't gotten him through more of the boring Council meetings lately. 

There's a wet sound when Anakin finally pushes into Obi-Wan with his finger and Obi-Wan sighs happily as he rocks down on the digit.

One becomes two which becomes three and soon Anakin has a lapful of Obi-Wan who is downright whimpering as he fucks himself on Anakin's fingers.

“Please.” Obi-Wan says between gasps. “You can come inside me too.” He adds with smile and he runs a hand down Anakin's still clothed erection.

Obi-Wan's phrasing and touch brings out a groan from Anakin and he quickly removes his fingers to free his cock from his pants.

“I've been dying to fuck you like this.” Anakin confesses as he rubs the head of his cock against Obi-Wan’s folds, using the wetness to ease his way. 

“With your dick?” Obi-Wan furrows his brows in confusion. “I certainly would hope so?”

Anakin laughs, dissolving into a low moan when Obi-Wan sinks down onto his hardness finally.

“No, fucking you full of my come.” He says with a thrust of his hips. 

Obi-Wan gasps from the force of Anakin's thrust and the embarrassment that follows his statement.

“That's absolutely filthy!” Obi-Wan comments but obviously with no heat behind his words as he sinks down to meet Anakin's hips. 

“You love it.” Anakin says, hands on Obi-Wan’s hips as he helps him move up and down. “I love knowing you're mine. No one else but me inside of you.” 

He doesn't answer but agrees, he loves holding Anakin inside him until it's unbearable. He loves knowing it's only the two of them and no one else. Anakin is his but he is also undeniably Anakin's. 

Obi-Wan becomes more and more undone due to Anakin's ministrations and he tosses his head back when his hair falls into his face from his motions.

“Attachment and possessions are forbidden.” Obi-Wan quotes grunting between each word and Anakin grins back at the smile Obi-Wan gives him when he delivers it.

“Good thing we’re giving that up then, isn't it?” Anakin replies, speeding up his rhythm and reaching up to squeeze one of Obi-Wan’s breasts.

Obi-Wan is definitely too far gone now and he only moans heavily in response.

“Anakin.” He says with lidded eyes as he brings his hips down hard against Anakin's. There's a sheen of sweat on his body and he shudders at the feeling of Anakin inside him. He wouldn't say Anakin is unbearably large but he's big enough that there's a consistent pressure pushing against all the right spots.

Anakin takes the hint and does his best to keep his steady thrusts as he moves his metal hand down to rub at Obi-Wan’s clit. 

Attempting to keep his voice down, Obi-Wan comes with a quiet cry, grinding against Anakin's hand as he waits out the last of his pleasure filled daze.

So caught up with himself he doesn't realize Anakin's already come as well.

“Come here.” Anakin motions for him, he's breathing heavily from their activities.

Obi-Wan ignores the wet feeling of come running down his thigh as he lifts himself off Anakin’s cock to rest on top of him. Anakin’s arms bring him into a hug, a hand on Obi-Wan’s cheek as Anakin kisses him deeply.

“Love you.” Obi-Wan says when they part and Anakin kisses him again on the nose in response. 

“Love you, too.” Anakin says patting Obi-Wan on the shoulder. “You have a call to make don’t you?”

Obi-Wan reluctantly leaves Anakin’s embrace. “Yes, I should probably contact Satine before the afternoon. She’s particularly busy these days.”

Anakin waves him off with a hand. “Yeah, I figured. You want me to come with?” He asks, chin resting on his palm as he lounges. He’s fixed up his clothes, although he’ll have to change before he leaves Obi-Wan’s quarters. His eyes follow Obi-Wan as the other man picks up his discarded robes and puts them on haphazardly.

“I think we’re both in enough trouble as is. It’s probably safer you stay here. Unless you really want to be present?” Obi-Wan offers. He doesn’t want to hide anything from Anakin if he can’t help it.

“Nah, that’s fine. I need talk to Ahsoka later today anyway probably, make sure she’s holding up alright. She didn’t seem really upset about getting caught but you never know.” 

Obi-Wan nods in agreement and fetches the comm lying on the kitchen counter. Anakin tells him that he’ll be in the 'fresher and the sound of rushing water soon follows. 

He comms Satine’s private channel, hoping to catch her while she’s still in the safety of her personal rooms, away from curious ears.

“Ben?” Satine’s voice crackles through the comm.

“Satine!” He greets cheerfully. “Are you busy this afternoon? I was wondering if you’d like to go out for some tea.” It’s code. During the Clone Wars it was much to dangerous to arrange meetings over calls, especially when Satine was the target half the time. Now Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he can trust the Republic and he hopes the sudden shift back to wartime ways doesn’t alarm the senator too bad.

“Of course.” Satine’s answers, voice calm and collected. “Our usual is alright with you, I assume? Shall I invite Moteé along?”

“Please.” Obi-Wan replies. Moteé is one of Padmé’s handmaidens but also the name they commonly used when wanting to discuss Padmé herself. 

Satine bids him goodbye at the same time Anakin emerges from the ‘fresher, a towel around his waist and his hair damp.

“Everything set?” He asks as he comes up to Obi-Wan by the counter and laying a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, I’ll trust you’ll be around later this evening?” 

Anakin shrugs. “Probably. I’ll comm you if I come by. Rex and the other boys wanna test some equipment they’ve been working on with the other initiates now that they’ve got a lot more free time on their hands.”

The clones are an extremely touchy subject. While the chip hidden to control their minds had been done away with, there was little else to be done for the clones lives. Many had grown up knowing only war and many clones like Rex and Cody pledged they stay at the temple to help out. Others were free to live as they please, but finding work was no simple task.

The Council agreed that the clones were welcome to stay as long as they needed and leave whenever they pleased. It’s a drain on resources but Anakin and other Jedi like Depa and Mundi had pushed to protect the clones’ rights.

Obi-Wan tells Anakin that’ll be fine and gives him a soft kiss before leaving to use the 'fresher himself.

When he’s finished and tidied up, a new set of robes on and his hair combed neatly, Anakin has left. There’s a note on the counter that reads, “ _ tell padmé i said hi! :) _ ” and Obi-Wan pockets it for safekeeping.

It takes little time to reach the appointed place Satine and Obi-Wan had agreed to meet. With all the commotion most of the senators are on extended stays within Coruscant to keep travel costs low and senate meetings convenient. 

Obi-Wan parks the speeder borrowed from the temple and makes his way towards Satine’s apartment complex she’s currently staying in. It’s a towering building and by the time the elevator dings to the correct floor he has second thoughts about exactly what to discuss.

Satine greets him at the door, Padmé waving to him from behind her. She’s seated comfortably around the lounge table, datapad in hand. She’s probably working while she’s supposed to be relaxing as usual.

He kisses Satine on the cheek and the woman places a hand on his elbow, ushering him inside.

“Obi-Wan, it’s been a while.” She starts when the three of them are all seated. One of the many service droids offers Obi-Wan some small cakes and tea and he takes them politely.

“Only a few months at most.” Obi-Wan points out. “How are you two doing lately?” 

“Fine, if a little weighed down.” Padmé admits. “If I thought negotiating with Separatists was a pain, the Republic is no better.” 

“He’s talking about our relationship, darling.” Satine corrects and Padmé blushes. 

“Oh! Of course, we’re doing wonderfully, thank you for asking. I’m sorry, like I said, there just doesn’t seem to be a time to relax.” Padmé apologizes.

Obi-Wan understands their stress and he hopes his solution will fix their problem. As much as he doesn’t want to walk out on the Republic in their time of need, politics were never something he enjoyed indulging in, just something he was good at.

“And you?” Satine asks with a knowing smile on her face. “How is Skywalker doing these days without the occasional ship to crash?” 

“He’s holding up. We’re holding up.” Obi-Wan says quickly. “That’s what I needed to discuss with you unfortunately. We’re thinking of leaving the order.”

Padmé’s eyes widen with shock although Satine’s face holds no surprise.

“Are you sure? That’s a big decision to make, Obi-Wan! Has something happened, did someone find out?” Padmé asks rapidly and Satine touches her shoulder to calm her down.

“No, it’s nothing like that. There’s been a lot of inconsistency in the code and we’ve both just kind of realized it’s not a very healthy environment for either of us to stay in anymore. Without the war we have little obligation either way.”

“That is a tall order to make so suddenly after the war’s ended, Obi-Wan.” Satine now questioning what could have happened to change his mind so quickly.

“We don’t want to leave if we can help it, I want to know why the Jedi have been so adamantly collaborating with the Republic. There’s also the issue of the code. We’re both tired of the danger it holds to Jedi themselves but we can’t do much without some kind of backing to our claims.”

Padmé seems to have mellowed out and she greatly agrees. “I don’t know if we’ll be of much help to the Jedi, but the Senate is having issues getting itself together. Palpatine wanted to control all of it and create a new government that would overrule us all.”

“The war may have ended but there are still a lot of Separatists who disagree with backing down from their stance of things. We fear we might have another split for power and who should rule.” Satine adds.

Padmé pulls up her datapad and shows Obi-Wan a lists of senators and contacts she’s been studying and collaborating with.

“I’ve been in heavy communication with Senator Organa and Mothma about how we should be organizing together if something goes wrong. Half the senate believes we should elect a new Chancellor, but many believe that’s what got us into this mess in the first place.” Padmé explains.

“I’m sorry if there’s not much we can do right now, Obi-Wan.” Satine says, standing from her seat. “If you could perhaps find out why the Jedi and Republic are working so closely and get the Jedi to back down, those who oppose us might agree to work with us. I think we should all meet up again later in the future now that me and Padmé are aware there are struggles within the Order’s factions”

“That would be fine, knowing you’re on our side eases quite a bit of worries.” Obi-wan sighs wearily. He contemplates telling the two of them that he and Anakin are planning on having a child but he is still unsure if it’s final. He isn’t pregnant now anyway or if he will be in the future. Complications always arise. 

Obi-Wan concludes that he’ll leave that choice to Anakin when it happens.

“I’ll leave you two to it then?” He says.

Satine holds out her hand for Obi-Wan to take. “I have something to give you before you leave.”

Padmé gives Obi-Wan a smile of encouragement and resumes studying her datapad on the lounge.

Obi-Wan follows Satine through her apartment and into her personal rooms. It’s not exactly the most welcoming place and he feels a bit awkward but Satine simply ignores him and strides over to one of the armoires and retrieves a thick dusty red book.

“I was digging through some old family heirlooms before I had been called here and I had found this.” She gestures to the book. “It’s been passed down the royalty of Mandalore for generations. The opening note is written, ‘ _ To my dearest friend and companion, Canderous Ordo. Ret'urcye mhi _ ’, Until we meet again.” Satine translates the last phrase. 

“What significance does it hold?” Obi-Wan asks, arms crossed and hiding his hands in his robes to shelter his discomfort.

“Canderous Ordo of clan Ordo seemed to be close friends with the owner of this journal. He was once a great warrior of Mandalore, and even held the high title of ruler of Mandalore himself. He is more commonly known amongst history texts as Mandalore the Preserver.” Satine explains. “He rebuilt much of Mandalore after it’s destruction during it’s war with the Republic over four thousand years ago.” 

“You said this journal belongs to someone else though, a friend of his.”

“Yes…” Satine hesitates. “I examined the journal vaguely expecting it to be war texts or perhaps a documentation of Ordo’s life. Instead, I realized it’s a personal diary to a Jedi, or a Sith. There’s conflicting texts in the journal. The person calls themselves Revan.” 

The name sounds familiar and Obi-Wan instantly reaches out to grab the journal from Satine.

“Jedi Knight Revan...They were a war hero. They were a Sith Lord who had rejected the dark side and saved the Republic from the Mandalorian Wars and ultimately the Jedi Civil War thousands of years ago. There’s a statue of them in Corellia! Satine this is amazing, there’s hardly anything about them in temple archives. They’re an  _ inspiration. _ ”

Satine smiles. “You can thank me later, Obi-Wan. I wanted someone with a bit more knowledge of Jedi teachings to examine the texts fully. They might be useful for learning what the Republic was like before.”

Obi-Wan thanks Satine profusely, pecking her on the cheek.

“This is great, Satine. I could use a distraction from reading treaties all day. The council will be thrilled to hear about this.”

“Ah,” Satine stops him, “you said the council was untrustworthy? I think for both our sakes we keep it under wraps until further notice.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan agrees. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ll see you in a few weeks then?” He asks making his way out of her room. Satine confirms this and follows Obi-Wan close behind.

Before he leaves he slips Padmé the note Anakin had given to him and she sets aside her datapad to give him a kiss goodbye as well.

“Stay safe, Obi.” She says warmly and he exchanges similar sentiments. 

Satine takes her seat again next to Padmé and Obi-Wan thanks the both of them for their hospitality and promises they’ll meet up again soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual unbeta-ed.   
> kind of an uneventful chapter? getting things laid out right now

The temple halls are crowded more than usual today. It seems hundreds of Jedi roam the halls as opposed to ten or twenty that are normally seen at a time. These all can’t possibly be Jedi, Anakin thinks to himself as he makes his way to the main hall. The Clone Wars left their numbers thinned, and even before then the Jedi Order was never this many. No one around him seems familiar, a sea of varying colored Jedi robes lining the walkway.

He hopes he can find a familiar face to answer his questions. 

Instead he finds even more Jedi crowding the halls and he turns to look at the large doors that lead to the council rooms. They look brand new, not like recently polished ancient architecture he is used to, but as if they had been just recently erected. 

He’s startled out of his thoughts when a figure bumps into him. A small child who Anakin assumes to be a youngling and they stammer out a quick apology.

“I’m sorry, Master!”

The youngling is short, only reaching about Anakin’s hip. Their hair is frizzy and dark in tight curls that fall into the traditional Jedi braid at their side. Bright green eyes contrast their dark skin and their robes are a deep purple color, unusual to most initiates.

“I’m not your master.” Seems like the only reply Anakin can think to say and the child stands up a little straighter, as if ready to lecture.

“You are a Jedi Master and I am a Padawan, so I should address you as what is proper.” 

Anakin frowns in confusion. He hasn’t been made a Jedi Master yet and he’s never seen this padawan ever before despite him spending a lot of time getting acquainted with most of the Order’s initiates.

“Where are we? What is your name, Padawan?” Anakin asks playing along with the child’s assumptions.

“I am Revan!” They say proudly. “Have you hit your head lately, Master? Your memory seems to be suffering. We are in the Jedi temple of Coruscant.” 

The name Revan is unfamiliar to Anakin and foreign on his tongue. He doesn’t bother to ask if they possess a surname.

“Why are you pacing the entrance to the council rooms?”

Revan stops in their tracks and wrings their hands together nervously.

“I’m waiting for my master, Arren Kae to return. She’s speaking to the council about Alek, he’s my closest friend.”

Arren Kae, Alek, these are all names Anakin has never heard in his life and he asks Revan who Alek is.

They twiddle their braid with a finger. “Alek is two years younger than me, he’s still technically a youngling in the council’s eyes. He hasn’t been chosen by a Master yet to become a Padawan initiate.”

“How old are you?” Anakin had assumed Revan to be no younger than ten because of their size but they seem to be more mature than he thought.

“I’m twelve! I know I’m small for my size but I can hold my own!” They raise their arms up, fists closed, stance giving off the appearance that Revan has enough confidence they could defend themselves if Anakin suddenly attacked. They lower their arms and their posture appears sullen once more.

“It’s not Alek’s fault.” Revan admits, eyes cast to the ground. “It was my mistake. I refused Master Kae’s choosing of me at first because Alek has no Master yet either. We grew up together as younglings and we made vows.”

“Vows?” Anakin asks with surprise. “Don’t you seem a little young?” 

Revan blushes and quickly waves their hands to dismiss Anakin’s accusations.

“No, no! Like a promise! We want to be trained as Jedi together, Alek is my best friend. We vowed we would never be separated no matter what. A lot of the initiates get sent to Dantooine or one of the other Jedi outposts if they don’t get chosen here on Coruscant. I’m afraid that’s what’s going to happen to Alek.” Revan says sadly. “I kind of threw a fit in the council room and the Council are debating with Master Kae if I should be relocated elsewhere or given a different Master. Jedi Master Arren Kae was only recently granted the title of Master.” They quote smartly as if it’s not common knowledge.

Anakin has never heard of these Jedi outposts and wonders just how different this world is from his.

“There are other Jedi schools besides the one here on Coruscant?”

Revan nods fervently but before they continue the doors open. A short, freckled woman with dusty blonde hair who Anakin assumes to be Arren Kae exits followed by a tall boy with a mop of messy black hair neatly tied into a padawan braid. Anakin assumes him to be Alek. Arren’s hair is styled messily, she has a braid on each side of her head covered in blue beads although they aren’t padawan ones. The beads remind him of somewhere that he can’t quite put his finger on right now.

The two make their way to Revan and Anakin, although Arren and Alek seem to ignore Anakin completely, focusing their sights on only Revan.

Revan eagerly raises their head, ready to receive Arren’s final words on the meeting.

“I’m sorry, Revan.” Arren begins, and Revan’s face falls. “They will allow me to teach you further but I’m afraid you and Alek are not to be in contact with each other until he has been chosen by an instructor.”

“So nothing will change?” Revan asks voice full of hope.

Arren gives them a wry smile. “You will need to let go of your attachment and strong feelings towards Alek. I understand you are close friends but it is a dangerous path to walk. Perhaps the two of you will be united in the future. I trust you will comply?”

Revan agrees with Arren without argument and the Jedi Master bids them goodbye before walking Alek back to his quarters with the other children. Anakin calls out to Arren but she does not notice him, and continues walking. 

Once they are out of sight Anakin turns to Revan once more.

“You yielded so quickly to her wishes. Why?”

“I respect Master Kae greatly. There is no other Jedi I would have hoped to have chosen me. I don’t want to lose my chance at this. It’s a small price to pay.” Revan reasons, half to Anakin and half with themselves it seems.

Anakin opens his mouth to reply but it comes out as a gasp as he finally opens his eyes and finds himself in his own bed, under the roof of his quarters at the temple.

He quickly sits up and looks around at his surroundings. His posters and storage boxes are all where they had been the night before and Coruscant’s busy hum reverberates in the distance.

A dream or a vision? He can’t tell. It didn’t seem like a vision, he had not known any of the Jedi at the temple and in such large quantities too. The day before he had been too busy with Rex to see Obi-Wan afterwards and immediately returned to his own room to avoid being accosted by any wandering council members.

The Jedi halls are empty now and he takes a half jog to Obi-Wan’s quarters in hopes of reaching the man before anyone spots him. While it isn’t uncommon for Jedi to visit each other’s rooms the frequency of their meetings could stir suspicion.

When the door opens for him Obi-Wan is seated on his usual spot on the couch, an old book in his lap.

“Good morning, dear.” Obi-Wan greets as he closes the book and gets up to give Anakin a proper welcoming. 

They share a short kiss that Anakin would love to continue but the dream gnaws at edge of his thoughts.

“I think I had a vision.” He blurts out as soon as they part and Obi-Wan blinks slowly as he catches up with Anakin’s words. Obi-Wan suggest they sit down and Anakin agrees.

As Anakin relays the vision back Obi-Wan’s expression grows more and more concerned. The events Anakin is describing are word for word the exact same he had read in journal recently, although from an outsider’s point of view. 

Revan had written of their childhood struggles growing up in the temple and their closeness to Alek and their discontent towards the code at an early age.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Anakin asks as he pauses his story.

Obi-Wan reaches for Revan’s journal and hands it to him.

“Fourth page.”

Anakin flips through and barely reaches half the text on the page before he exclaims. “This is what I saw!” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agrees, “I had just finished that entry last night, Satine had given the book to me during our meeting.” He’d stayed up all night afterwards as well, although he doesn’t tell Anakin that. He wanted to cross check the info he had read about the enclave on Dantooine in the archives but his search had proved fruitless. Had the Jedi erased the information? Or was it destroyed?

“Were there really that many Jedi all those years ago?” Anakin asks in awe.

Obi-Wan shrugs in response.

“I can’t be sure. I know our numbers were greater in the past but to the degree you described...Revan had lived through the wars that had purged all the Jedi, I wouldn’t be surprised if there once existed thousands of Jedi in the galaxy at one time.” Obi-Wan wonders if this means there were less Masters to potential padawans. Were many students denied, or were more students accepted? He can’t help but wonder what life was like back then and almost wishes he was the one who received the vision and not Anakin.

“So…” Anakin points to the book. “Who exactly is this Revan person? They looked so young, what made them so great?”

Obi-Wan isn’t surprised that the name Revan isn’t more known to others in the order. Their history is one that’s shrouded in mystery and disdain. Many wish to ignore to the fact that an ex-Sith lord could have been a hero of the Republic and others deny that it was really Revan who had saved them all.

“They were a Jedi Knight who left the order to fight the Mandalorian’s during the war between the Republic and Mandalore. Against the council’s wishes of course. In the aftermath, something had happened to them between the defeat of Mandalore and the victory of the Republic that caused them to side with the Sith. This had brought upon the Jedi Civil War. Hundreds of Jedi all over were purged, killed by Darth Revan and their army.”

Anakin is taken aback and he almost doesn’t believe that the small child in his visions could be capable of such destruction. 

Obi-Wan sighs. “This was almost four thousand years ago though, some of the history seems to be missing pieces and certain facts don’t add up. Why did Revan choose the dark side after helping the Republic? There are no records of them possessing a Master, only an apprentice, an outside influence perhaps? Either way, Revan had rejected the dark side after their apprentice, Darth Malak, attempted to kill them. Revan returned to the light and aided by the remainder of the Jedi order they defeated Malak and ended yet another war.” Obi-Wan strokes his beard absentmindedly as his face twists in confusion.

“It just doesn’t make sense though...Why would you be having visions of Revan the exact same time I’ve happen to come across their history.”

Anakin notices Obi-Wan’s frustration and he wish he had an adequate explanation.

“Maybe our bond? It’s faulty or something?” Anakin suggests. “Maybe things are slipping through or...I don’t know it wouldn’t explain how vivid it was. And some of the things I saw in my vision aren’t word for word what Revan wrote down, there’s nothing about what Arren Kae or Alek looked like in here.”

Shaking his head Obi-Wan retrieves the book from Anakin.

“That wouldn’t explain Revan’s appearance either. There is a statue of them in Corellia but they’re in full armor. I admit I’m jealous, no one besides you right now know what they really look like.”

“I’ll draw you a picture.” Anakin says with a grin and a wink to lighten the mood.

Obi-Wan laughs, half reactionary to anything ridiculous that Anakin tends to say and half because he knows the man means it.

“I think we should sit on this for a bit. I’ll read the next few pages when I get the chance and you let me know if any visions pop up. How’s that sound?” Obi-Wan is still bogged down by council work but he can drop off the excess to Depa, she won’t mind.

“It’ll be our little group project.” Anakin declares.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta-ed  
> hi! this is an odd chapter? there's some vague stuff towards the end, let me know if you'd like me to elaborate or clarify!  
> also i am changing a couple of odd things in the kotor canon so if ur familiar w/ it and stuff seems off it's there for a reason!

The next few weeks find Anakin busy with a blur of dreams almost every night.

There is constant cross-checking with Revan’s journal that needs to be done after each one. Obi-Wan has taken to writing up a collection of all the information along with whatever side theories and comments he has.

The dreams aren’t what Anakin would call thrilling to experience but they detail greatly in how Revan grew up as a padawan.

“When we meet, they’re always in their room, or at the archives, or with other Masters.” Anakin tells Obi-Wan during one of their get-togethers over the journal. “Remember that time when you told me it was okay if Ahsoka studied with the other Jedi Masters?”

Obi-Wan says yes, he does remember that time very well, and asks how it relates to the situation at hand.

“You weren’t wrong about it being common back then, I wonder why don’t the Jedi just all train padawans in a group instead of pairing them off? I rarely saw Arren and Revan ever together unless it was to meditate or talk about the code. Which was super boring, by the way.” Anakin says from his spot on the floor, sitting cross-legged and surrounded by several copies of text.

Obi-Wan ignores him and motions for Anakin to hand him one of the pages by his knee to which Anakin complies without a second thought.

“I don’t have a sufficient answer to that, Anakin.” Obi-Wan says taking the page from him and Anakin blinks at him in surprise. “The bond helps us communicate and learn with each other but what more does it play outside of that than in war and combat? It does nothing but create attachments to which we are already forbidden from don’t you agree?”

Anakin shrugs. “I always figured it was just a ‘me’ thing. What part does the bond play in the past then? Revan studied under so many Masters, it’s as if Arren’s bond with Revan wasn’t even existent.”

Obi-Wan taps the sheet in his hand, marking off names with a piece of charcoal.

“Masters Vrook, Vander, and Kreia, the list goes on.” Obi-Wan ticks off. “Many of these Jedi were members of the council during the time of the Old Republic. “Revan sought out all of these people for extensive training.”

“They were eager to learn.” Anakin says. “Much of the time they told me I was allowed to watch but they would answer none of my questions. They had to study, work hard to become the Jedi they wanted to be.”

“Revan speaks to you in these dreams?” Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin confirms this. “Yeah, sometimes? It’s like my body’s being held under. I can’t move or speak sometimes, depends on the dream.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t comment and his brows furrow in concentration as he tries to put together the information they’ve gathered so far from the journal and dreams.

Alek was made a padawan a year after Revan, the two were on par with their training although Revan showed more promise and affinity in the force. Revan wrote that this often put the two of them at odds, and they often held back when sparring with Alek in an effort to not let him down.

There is endless blurbs of unnecessary information too. Well, as unnecessary as research goes but normal for a growing teenager. Entries seem to flourish with praise for Alek as Revan grew older, minuscule things such as Revan comparing Alek’s height to their own. Alek seemed to have hit his growth spurt first before Revan and they describe the younger boy as towering over them as well as the other padawans. Revan at times, also seemed unsure of their true feelings towards Alek.

“They describe these small details, how Revan likes making Alek laugh, how they would seek Alek out to spar when the other Masters weren’t around. Most concerning is Revan would distract Alek from his studies in favor of being around the boy to play together and roam the temples looking for trouble.”

Anakin snorts at Obi-Wan’s observations.

“Sounds like a crush to me. That’s all Revan wanted to talk about half the time when they did talk, Alek this, Alek that.”

Obi-Wan hums in disapproval.

“Revan particularly wrote that they were unsure if their feelings towards Alek were that of jealousy or pride. From what you said earlier Revan was keen on continuing their studies without outside conflict.”

“Yeah, but when does that ever work.” Anakin disagrees.

Frowning, Obi-Wan looks up from the texts sprawled in his lap. “I don’t mean to dismiss your theory, Anakin, sorry. I agree with you, Revan seemed like a pushy child, strong in the force but weak at hiding their feelings. A little like you actually.”

Anakin frowns. “What a back-handed apology.” He says sarcastically.

Pinching his nose, Obi-Wan sighs. “You know that’s not what I mean, Revan tended to put a front for Arren in an attempt to dissuade her from the assumption that they could be breaking the code with these feelings. Honestly this journal they started at such a young age seems to be the result of Revan getting tired of hiding their pent up frustrations with the code.”

Anakin doesn’t back down though. “I just don’t like being compared to someone who apparently became a murderer in their future.”

“They were a hero, Anakin.” Obi-Wan reasons. “Their feelings are justified as much as the ones you hold now are. Revan is correct albeit perhaps in a different manner, but the code is faulty and the way in which things were handled back then are just as bad as they're being handled now. They didn’t suddenly become Sith because they turned away from the code before they were even a Knight.”

Obi-Wan rises from his chair to where Anakin is, seated on the floor.  “If you’re bad for thinking negatively about the code then I’m just as bad too.” He says bringing an arm around his shoulder.

Anakin leans into the touch and lets out a shaky laugh. “I know, I know, just...all this analyzing and these dreams, do you really think it’s gonna help our case? We should be researching the Republic’s fishy schemes not some teenager's musings of love.”

“I think it’s exactly what we need to get the council on our side.” Obi-Wan states confidently. “We’re hardly through the first leg of this journal and your dreams are incredibly helpful at envisioning just how the order was back then. If you need a break though, please don’t hesitate to let me know. We’re doing this together, remember?”

There’s a puff of warm air on his neck as Anakin hides his face in Obi-Wan’s collar and wraps his arms around the man. “Yeah.” He whispers. “I know.”

They stay there on the floor, wrapped up in each other for a while until Anakin suggest he take his leave. He has a meeting with Ahsoka and Windu about the removal of her ban and Obi-Wan should finish the last of the texts they had laid out together.

Reluctantly parting, Anakin lays a kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek and cards a hand through Obi-Wan’s hair affectionately. Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the other hand hovering dangerously close to his chest and he slaps it away playfully. “Anakin.” He says in that disappointed tone Anakin won’t admit he loves.

“Later?” Anakin says with a grin as he gets up from the floor. Obi-Wan only rolls his eyes and stands as well, giving Anakin a long kiss that’s filled with a promise of something more.

“Oh, yeah definitely later.” Anakin says with a smirk when they part.

“Would you leave already?” Obi-Wan says with a disapproving look and Anakin only laughs as he exits the room.

Once he is gone, Obi-Wan begins the boring task of collecting the rest of the texts across the floor and ordering them once more. The full contents of the journal have barely been skimmed. The history prior to Revan’s turn seemingly short, although it is understandable considering their life beforehand never seemed particularly eventful.

His eyes begin to grow tired as he’s mid-way through another part of the journal and fatigue catches up with Obi-Wan as he tells himself he’s simply resting his eyes.

 

-

 

When Obi-Wan opens his eyes once more he stands before two Jedi speaking to each other in one of the corridors of the temple. The light is shining more brightly than ever before through the huge window and Obi-Wan realizes there is a distinct lack of Coruscant’s looming towers that normally block the sun.

He is close enough to the two women that to an outsider, it would look as though he was part of the conversation. However, the two pay him no mind.

“Arren.” The brown-haired woman hisses through her teeth. Her hair falls past her shoulders, tied up in two separate braids, one on each side of her face. There are evident wrinkles around her eyes and her pupils are a milky white. Her gaze is directed at the other Jedi who Obi-Wan can only assume is Arren Kae, although it seems to go past her. She is blind but it does not deter or hinder her. “You coddle the child as if they are your own. You are distant from your fellow order members.”

Arren Kae is tense and she looks anywhere but at the other woman.

“Kreia…” She starts but is interrupted.

“Not only is this against code but it is suspicious and dangerous.” Kreia’s voice is sharp and icy. Even Obi-Wan can feel the power emanating from this woman’s aura alone, and he knows it’s not from the Force.

Arren clenches her fists and steps closer to Kreia. “How dare you?” She is attempting to match Kreia’s tone, a harsh whisper but Arren’s voice carries loud and clear. Arren is clearly upset that Kreia would suggest Arren have any ill will towards Revan. “Where have you been lately? You’ve been nothing but cold-hearted towards me and Revan as well. All you do is lock yourself up in the Archives to wallow in your own misery.”

“You know nothing of my research.” Kreia interjects. “You worry and treat your student as if they were your own child. Padawans are to be taught, not adopted.”

“What are you looking for? We never have time for each other anymore. You’re not in a position to judge me.” Arren ignores the last statement although the truth strikes her deeply.

Obi-Wan can only side with Kreia’s words, Revan thought highly of Arren and was overtly protective of her as if she was their own mother.

Kreia backs away from Arren, folding her arms around herself. Her robes are a rich wine color and she wears her hood up in a peculiar fashion. It is unlike any other garb he is familiar with in the Jedi Order except for Arren’s robes, which are strikingly similar to his own and he finds comfort in this woman for some reason.

“We used to be close until you became a Knight. And then you became a Master. And then you shut me out.”

“It was the council, Kreia. Revan’s training comes first, you know this.”

Kreia’s jaw tenses and she lunges forward to grab Arren’s arms. The motion startles Arren and she has no time to react as Kreia’s lips are on hers. The kiss is one-sided and Arren quickly pushes Kreia away from her and Kreia yields with no fight.

“You realize we cannot go on any longer with each other, Arren.” Kreia whispers, hurt filling her words.

Arren stares at the ground in silent agreement and Kreia nods to herself.

“Arren, you cannot shield that child from the harsh realities of the world. We are Jedi. Our love is not real. Yours, mine, and the love we craft out of some futile desire to function like those without the Force. Perhaps this path is not yours to walk.”

With that Kreia turns around, not awaiting a response from Arren. She makes her way steadily down the corridor from to which Obi-Wan can only assume where she came.

Arren does not move although her shoulders shake, Obi-Wan looks at her with concern and attempts to reach a comforting hand out to the woman. When she tenses, it only confirms that Arren is aware of his presence.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly.

Arren furiously shakes her head and she lets out a wet sob as she sinks to the floor of the temple.

“I’m a terrible person, a terrible Jedi, and now a terrible mother.”

“Do you truly see Revan as your own child?” He asks as carefully as he can.

Another shake of her head although there is a hesitance in the action. “I...Revan is not a student to me. They are so much more.” She whispers. “I- I know it was against the code but so was my affair with Kreia. Everything became too much. I fell in love with the Echani Senator from that past mission too. Kreia knew. Kreia thought it was just another one of my silly whims. I…” Her breath comes out faster as her tears continue to escape and she grips Obi-Wan’s robes as if they are her only lifeline.

“I’m pregnant with his child. Yusanis’s, the senator’s. I’ve always wanted a child.” She shrugs. “Kreia doesn’t know of this, I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve used Revan. I wanted a child so bad and there they were. They loved me so much and I just- I wanted it to be real, I wanted to be their mother.” Arren cries.

Obi-Wan is stunned into silence and he wonders just how much Arren has been fighting with herself through the years of her teaching Revan. It is not unlikely for Jedi Masters to form close parental bonds and feelings towards their Padawans although it is strictly discouraged and to coddle and care for them as much as Arren most likely has done is dangerous.

“Do I turn myself in?” Arren asks herself and Obi-Wan all the same. “I don’t want to let Revan down. I’m their hero. I know...I know they’ll never forgive me once the news gets out but- Revan possesses immense power. I don’t know how to protect them from the council or those who will manipulate them.” She whispers other things to herself that Obi-Wan can’t make out.

He doesn’t know what to tell her, he has never found himself in this position before. He has always felt protective of Anakin but not as his own child. Although he regrets it, he admittedly distanced himself from Anakin when he was younger, times were different of course back then.

They only communicated if it was for a mission or for base training, Obi-Wan never sought Anakin out for personal talks and if he had a concern he had relied on the council for guidance. A mistake he thinks, trusting the council. Their fates would be changed for sure if things had been different but Anakin was never one to dwell on what-ifs.

“I don’t know what the right words to say are.” He begins. Would offering Arren Kae advice change anything? He knows this is a dream but he can’t help but feel awful for the women and he finds himself guilty of the same selfish desires she holds to have a family. “I too have broken the code knowingly and without regret. It is a path unlike that of the Jedi or Sith, it’s a path those without bindings and ties to the force live everyday. The path of the Jedi is not for everyone and perhaps the best thing you can do is live with the decisions you have taken in your life. Live for Revan. Hide and harbor in secret to protect them for as long as you can.”

He knows the last bit is wrong but he can’t help but feel like it is right. Revan was an incredibly powerful force wielder, even as strong as Anakin or stronger. They would never be contained inside a safe bubble but having someone to comfort them in times of struggle seems important to Obi-Wan somehow.

Arren Kae grabs his hands and thanks him. There is a sadness in her eyes but when she smiles at Obi-Wan he can’t help but feel as if he understands Revan’s view of the Jedi Master.

“You…” Obi-Wan stumbles over his words. “You will be a great mother to this child.”

Arren’s expression softens and in turn it is Arren who comforts Obi-Wan now.

“There is something completely different about you in the force, I don’t understand. I feel safe here.” Obi-Wan confesses and Arren only nods as Obi-Wan’s shoulders slump. She cups his cheeks with her hands and Obi-Wan swears the Arren he sees in front of him has suddenly aged years. “You have done your duty.” Obi-Wan says to Arren although he doesn’t know why. He feels like someone is talking for him and his head feels light as he collapses forward in Arren’s open arms. She runs a soothing hand down his back as he lays his head on her shoulder.

“You can rest now, my child.” She whispers and her voice is raspy with age and Obi-Wan feels his eyes begin filling with tears. His head is pounding and when he raises his head Arren’s gaze is loving.

“Mother…” Obi-Wan whispers before he can no longer keep his eyes open.

He wakes to salt-stained cheeks and stray tears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny reminder this fic is unbeta'd and as such the writing is a bit choppy in places  
> sorry if certain bits are ooc
> 
> ps thank you for all your kudos & comments so far! they keep me motivated and i'm a bit too shy to reply to all of them but it means a lot B)

_ Mother. _

It’s a word that rings through Obi-Wan’s head as he wipes his eyes before the mirror in the small refresher in his quarters. He leans over the sink, hands clenched around the counter. His emotions feel as if he is in a flurry and when did it suddenly become so hard to breath?

It’s just a dream he tells himself, just like the ones Anakin is experiencing. Obi-Wan reluctantly resigns himself to his fate of receiving the more weirder ones. 

_ Mother… _

He repeats it to himself once more. It was as if he was being controlled, forced to repeat words to a script in his dream. As if telling Arren she was fine and comforting her was some part of his purpose. Did Arren’s child survive? Was she banished from the order the minute they discovered her wrongdoings? While the dream might have been real, the discussion between Arren and Kreia, along with Arren’s other affairs, it would be of no use to the journal notes. He can’t prove any of those things as historical fact while only relying on some twisted dream. 

Obi-Wan’s hands itch to reach for the journal to answer his questions but he doesn’t fancy another stomach twisting vision. 

Splashing water onto his face as he waits for his mind to calm down, he tries to gather his breathing to be steady once more.

Arren Kae could not be his mother. Aside from the obvious fact that Arren lived nearly four thousand years ago, Obi-Wan has never even met his own mother, nor does he have the faintest idea what she could even look like. Having been given to the order at only a few months old, any information about his parents is likely lost or hidden away under the many records Master Windu keeps under lock and key. He tries not to dwell on his parents much, yearning for things that he will never have never did any good.

There’s an uncomfortable churn of doubt if he’s even ready for his and Anakin’s child, he doesn’t know the first thing about parenting. The Jedi are hardly what anyone could call qualified for raising children. Anakin may be younger than him but the man has more knowledge about the simpler things than Obi-Wan ever did.

At the thought of their potential child Obi-Wan frowns at the emptiness of his room and he wonders if now would be a good time to visit with the healer to see if he could be expecting yet. He’s been feeling fatigued lately but he can never tell if it’s from the work from the council that continues to grow in piles on his desk or just him. 

While he’s not on terrible terms with Healer Che, it’s still awkward to have her hold the knowledge that he’s breaking several, if not many, of the order’s rules. The woman is surprisingly lenient though and has many times proven she could care less about the personal lives of her patients, as long as they’re happy and healthy. It’s a stark contrast to the uptight and stern visage the rest of the order is used to seeing.

 

-

 

“Kenobi.” Che greets curtly as Obi-Wan enters the Halls of Healing. Her hands are folded inside of her robes and she leans casually against the door of one of the infirmary rooms. “Same as usual, I assume?”

Obi-Wan coughs and he nods shyly. Che had examined him the month before during his and Anakin’s initial scare and while she had kept her comments to herself the visit was still no less embarrassing. Her company lacks but she makes up for it in discretion, never once has she criticized his body or choices in what he does with it. Several times she had suggested surgery and hormones to Obi-Wan when he was a padawan, although he had turned her down at each check-up. It never felt like the right decision and as time progressed he eagerly accepted the hormones at the eve of his knighting.

“You never ask about the father.” Obi-Wan comments as Che motions for him to take a seat on one of the examination beds. She fiddles with the various instruments on the table next to it until she finds the appropriate needles and patches she wants.

“I can’t say I’m not curious.” Che holds a hand up to signal that she wants Obi-Wan’s arm extended and he doesn’t blink when she promptly draws blood from it. “I know you better than to carelessly harbor a child from a one-off affair, Kenobi.” Satisfied with the sample she wraps his arm in a bandage and tells him to make himself comfy as she runs her tests.

“I’m...honored? I had no idea you thought so highly of me.”

Che rolls her eyes. “Don’t let my praise get to you, you’ll have a head as big as Skywalker’s at this rate.” 

Freezing at her comment he lets out another awkward cough. “About that…”

The reaction Obi-Wan gets shocks him just as much as his words shock Che. The sample in her hands nearly slips from her fingers and it’s a sight to see her lose her ever sturdy composure.

Turning away from her desk to face Obi-Wan, she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breathe.

“I would prefer you not to blurt nonsense at me when I’m holding something next time.” 

He relaxes at her idea of sarcasm and laughs.

“I apologize, it’s fine if you don’t approve...it’s-”

Che clicks her tongue to silence him and turns back around to finish examining the sample.

“You assume too much, Kenobi. I see how the war affected us, Jedi, the clones. People tend to stray from the courses they find themselves expecting to see set out before them.”

“This is Anakin we’re talking about.” Obi-Wan says with confusion.

“I don’t think Skywalker would appreciate you assuming his name brings conflict wherever it’s uttered.”

Obi-Wan squirms in discomfort and Che stands from her desk with a sigh. 

“I understand what you’re implying. The fact it’s Anakin seems to...make sense somehow. Not that I truly believe in whatever fate nonsense the order tends to spew at all of us.” Che mutters the last part to herself. 

Che’s admittance of disregarding Jedi viewpoints doesn’t surprise him.

“The circumstances are understandable, your relationship with Skywalker is something none of us will understand, I’m afraid. As long as you’re happy, I don’t care. I don’t require an explanation like the council likely will.” 

Her words are full of dismissal and acceptance all the same and Obi-Wan relaxes. Che never was one for conflict unless it was to save a life. She moves to Obi-Wan’s side and holds her hand out to him to help him off the bed.

“Congratulations, Kenobi. I’m sure Anakin will be delighted at the news.” That's a confirmation if Obi-Wan's ever heard one.

Obi-Wan has rarely seen Che smile and he thinks it suits her nicely.

“Thank you, Vokara. I--you won’t miss us will you?”

She laughs and shakes her head.

“Goodness, no. The day I don’t have to see you two in my halls every other week feels like a fantasy. You sound like leaving the order means signing your death sentence. It’s hardly that. You’re still welcome here anytime.” She hands him a datapad she pulls from one of the many pockets in her robes. “These are the dates I want to see you back here for your check-ups. I’ll probably send you updates on who I’d like you to see. Now that I know this is Anakin’s child…” Obi-Wan raises a questioning eyebrow and she puts a hand on her hip.

“Let’s just say children between Jedi aren’t uncommon, but Anakin’s not a normal Jedi now is he? I want to monitor this child closely. I don’t want anything going wrong considering how strong Anakin is in the force.” 

Taking the datapad Obi-Wan frowns as he sees a list that dates all the way up to an expected delivery timeframe.

“Che this is absurd. You seem overly protective about this.”

She smiles again at his foolishness and places her hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone this, but I actually care about you Obi-Wan. Now get out of my halls.” She slaps him on the back firmly and Obi-Wan is left standing in the middle of the hall moments later just wondering if he'll ever understand Vokara Che.

He doesn't know where he's headed after that. He makes it halfway between the archives and his quarters when the realization that he's carrying his and Anakin's child hits him. There is no dramatic feeling of happiness or excitement, no sudden surge of euphoria. He wonders if perhaps he doesn't feel anything because he is conditioned to feel in such way by the Order.  _ I'm going mad _ , he thinks to himself. The dream with Arren is affecting him too much for his liking. Are they even ready for a child?

His racing thoughts almost distract him from noticing Anakin walking towards him, likely back from his latest outing with Ahsoka. 

Anakin's eyes light up at the sight of him and there's no mistaking the lovesick smile painted on his face as he walks slightly faster to meet Obi-Wan.

_ He's so obvious. _ Obi-Wan thinks but he finds himself rushing his stride as well, suddenly eager to tell Anakin the news.

“Hey.” Anakin breathes out as if he's been jogging through the whole temple. His hands are out as if to greet Obi-Wan with a hug although he restrains himself. “Sorry about last week, I've been tied up with Windu--you know how he gets, and then Barriss of all people asked to see me and--mmph!” Obi-Wan’s lips are on Anakin’s in an instant, effectively cutting off whatever drawn-out explanation he could care less about right now. Anakin yields immediately to him, arms wrapping around Obi-Wan, an unmistakable moan escaping his mouth as he tries to maneuver the two of them behind one of the pillars of the temple hall.

“Force,” Anakin gasps out when they finally part. They're barely hidden from view behind the column but it's better than nothing.  “Anyone could have seen us Obi-Wan, I thought I was the reckless one.” He definitely doesn't mean it because he has that silly grin on his face as if Obi-Wan’s just fulfilled one of his secret fantasies of making out in broad daylight. 

“I'm pregnant.” Obi-Wan immediately says, ignoring Anakin’s teasing.

Obi-Wan groans at the face Anakin makes at him and he swears if it were possible he’d see slow turning gears inside of the younger man's head. 

He barely has time to ask Anakin if he's going to give him a reply before he's unceremoniously hoisted up against the pillar, his limbs immediately wrapping around Anakin to prevent him from falling. 

The kiss Anakin gives him is softer than the greeting one he gave Anakin earlier and he sighs happily into it.

“Are you sure?” Anakin finally asks once he's apparently had his fill of smothering Obi-Wan.

“I just spoke to Che this morning--Anakin!” Obi-Wan laughs out when Anakin’s roaming hand on his stomach tickles him accidentally.

“I'm barely a few weeks along there's nothing to feel yet.” He says breathlessly, hands around Anakin’s shoulders toying with the curls at the base of his neck.

Anakin kisses him again. “I'm so happy.” He whispers in between each one. Soon there's little else to talk about once Obi-Wan feels the telltale bump underneath Anakin’s robes against his groin and Anakin’s insistent grinding as heavier kisses are exchanged.

Obi-Wan reluctantly breaks away and his eyes are clouded over. “We can't do this here, it's highly inappropriate. Not to mention dangerous.”

There's a tiny whine from Anakin and Obi-Wan gives him a look that wills him to gently set Obi-Wan back on his feet.

“Sorry, I just can't believe it. I'm so excited. Fuck, you're pregnant.” Anakin babbles as he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Obi-Wan this is amazing, there's a kid--well I mean there's going to be one inside of you.”

He's grinning impossibly wide and hugging Obi-Wan close to him once more.

“We’re having a kid!”

Obi-Wan only smiles softly, and Anakin finally calms down enough to notice his lack of enthusiasm.

“Is something wrong?”

He waves Anakin off.

“I'm just tired lately, a side-effect of the pregnancy most likely.”  _ A side-effect of the dream _ , he adds silently.

The look of worry on Anakin’s face unsettles Obi-Wan and he places a comforting hand on Anakin’s arm.

“I had a dream last night about Revan’s old master, Arren. It wasn’t something written in the journal though, which has me...puzzled.” He’s not interested in discussing the events of the dream but of course Anakin’s curiosity gets the best of him.

“She’s shown up in my dreams too but I’ve never been able to speak with her. Did she talk to you? What did she say?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Obi-Wan replies sharply and winces at how harsh he sounds. “It’s...I don’t want to repeat the events of the dream it’s irrelevant to our findings. It wasn’t discussed in the journal therefore I can’t even be sure if it was something that actually happened. You said Revan and Arren were hardly seen together right? The Arren in my dream had an unhealthy attachment towards the Revan in my dream. I hardly doubt there’s a correlation then in the truth of the matter.”

It’s Anakin’s turn to look uncomfortable and he shuffles his feet awkwardly. “I may have been hiding parts of what happens in my dream.” He confesses. 

Obi-Wan represses a sigh and he can’t blame him. It seems the dreams leave the two of them scarred with feelings they don’t want to admit.

“Do you feel emotions in your dreams? Connections to things that don’t make sense? Like you’re being controlled or someone else is in your conscious?” It’s an invasive question but if Anakin is experiencing the same severity of mental drag that Obi-Wan is then these dreams are hardly healthy to continue observing without caution.

“Yeah…” Anakin admits hesitantly. “I get these feelings that aren’t my own, whatever Revan feels, I feel. It’s like you and me, it’s not a force bond really but it’s close enough. As soon as I wake up it’s severed and it’s like it never existed but there’s a lasting emptiness afterwards--I hate it.” Concern floods Obi-Wan’s face. “What kind of feelings?”

Anakin shrugs. “Jealousy, rage. They’re not my feelings. They’re Revan’s. They’re really young but being connected to them is like being connected to a hurricane. I can’t stand it, everytime I wake up I feel like  _ I’m  _ Revan and it doesn’t make sense and it feels like all their rage just gets directed through me and sometimes I find myself hating the stupidest things.” He clenches his fist and frowns. “I wake up some days hating the council, hating you or Ahsoka or people I love and it doesn’t make sense.” Anakin folds his arms and shrinks within himself.

“You don’t think that journal is some kind of Sith artifact do you? You said Revan was a Sith Lord, are you sure we shouldn’t bring this up to the council? If this is affecting me this badly I don’t want it to start affecting you too, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan avoids Anakin’s eyes.

“No, I...there’s nothing evil about the journal I just…” He trails off and takes a steady breath. “We just have to endure. I don’t trust the council, Anakin. We have to be more honest with each other, I didn’t know the dreams were affecting you this badly, please tell me if they get worse.” He pleads. 

Anakin nods and gives Obi-Wan a kiss on the cheek. “Of course, I’m sorry I waited so long to say anything. You have to promise me if there’s something wrong with you too though. We both have a bad habit of bottling things up.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “That tends to be the Jedi way.”

The tense aura surrounding them eases up and Anakin grins. “Great, how about we celebrate the good news then? No creepy sith journals and no Revan.”

“Celebrate what good news?” Ahsoka asks curiously as she turns the corner of the pillar the two Jedi are hiding behind. “What are you two up to over here? Who’s Revan?”

Anakin playfully grabs Ahsoka in a headlock. “You’re awfully rude to sneak up on us like that. I thought you were hanging back to talk to Barriss.”

She squirms out of his grip with a laugh. “She’s busy with Che, don’t know about what.” Obi-Wan definitely knows what Che is discussing with Barriss as she was one of the healers he was directed to see on the list. He doesn’t say anything though.

“We were just about to head out, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan says, ignoring her question about Revan and hopefully diverting her attention to something else. “Temple food isn’t exactly agreeing with me right now, would you like to join us?”

Ahsoka looks to Anakin who only shoots her a smile. “What are we celebrating?” She asks with her eyes narrow in suspicion. Anakin simply puts an arm around her and Obi-Wan’s shoulders as he directs them to start walking.

“My dear padawan,” Anakin starts and Ahsoka rolls her eyes, he never addresses Ahsoka formally when they’re alone. “We’re celebrating the fact that stuffy old perfect Master Kenobi has agreed to let us leave the temple.” Obi-Wan gives him a look that could kill but Anakin doesn’t acknowledge him. “For  _ decent  _ food.” Anakin adds.

“Did you just call me old and perfect?”

“And stuffy.” Ahsoka adds. 

Anakin will hear about it from Obi-Wan later but right now Obi-Wan only laughs as the three of them make their way outside. The journal is the forefront of his mind but there’s a numb buzz of happiness that fills him knowing soon he’ll be able to leave this all behind and have a family of his own. There’s a regret inside him knowing that Anakin will have to abandon Ahsoka but it’s a discussion for another day. It’s not a death sentence he reminds himself. It’s like Che said. Fate changes, not everything follows its true path. There will be losses but ultimately this will be for the better.

He hopes he can convince the council to change their mind. He prays the republic isn’t staging itself up for another war.

Anakin notices him lagging behind and taps him on the shoulder with a questioning gaze. Obi-Wan shakes his head and matches his stride. “Later.” He tells him and Anakin drops the subject.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd  
> early update cause i ran into some free time, enjoy!!

Exhaustion is all Obi-Wan seems to know lately. Yesterday, after his big reveal to Anakin of the baby and their outing with Ahsoka, he had promptly returned to his quarters and collapsed in his bed; council datapads and work forgotten.

He had woken up slightly rested but with an aching headache that he silently blamed on his stress and worked to finish what should have been finished last night for the council.

Right now he is meditating after a particularly annoying conversation with Depa earlier this morning when he stopped by her quarters to drop off his reports. She had invited him for a quick chat and a drink and, foolishly, he accepted her offer. Hoping their conversation from before had been forgotten he should have known that Depa never lets anything drop.

“I’ve not heard from you in a while, Obi-Wan.” Depa begins when she sets down her cup of caf and crosses her legs. He can’t help but feel like he’s at his own interrogation and he slowly sips at his own drink.

“I’ve been busy. You ought to know, you’re present for all the meetings.” He regrets how bitter his words come out but he’s tired and irritable and would rather be anywhere else besides answering Depa’s questions.

She only sighs and gives Obi-Wan a pleading look.

“Will you at least tell me what’s troubling you? If it’s not...a relationship and just an issue with the code what would cause you to so suddenly question it? You’ve had years to do so. Why now? I don’t understand why you’d put it off for so long, it’s unlike you.”

He bites back from telling Depa she hardly knows him at all but he knows that isn’t her fault.

“What’s your standing with Caleb?” He asks, changing the subject.

Her posture droops in disappoint and Depa gives him a confused look.

“He’s my student. What are you getting at?”

“No, _how_ do you care about Caleb? What’s your standing with him?” He asks once again.

Depa simply looks suspicious now and she gives Obi-Wan a curious stare as she reiterates.

“He is my student. And he will stay as such.”

Obi-Wan immediately holds out his hands. “I’m not insinuating anything, Depa, forgive me. I guess I should be more direct. Have you ever considered Caleb as your own child?”

This seems to only confuse Depa even more although she does relax visibly.

“No.” She answers confidently. “Caleb is the student as I am the teacher. Caleb will graduate and our connection will be severed like any other.” Depa seems to think for a moment before she shrugs. “I don’t know what it’s even like to be a parent. I wouldn’t even know what that feeling or emotion is. My parents were killed and I was rescued and raised like any other youngling. Master Windu was never particularly close to me.”

Obi-Wan understands where she’s coming from and he points out. “Mace favored you from afar among the other students.”

“Yes.” Depa agrees. “But not to a degree that suggested attachment.”

Windu had supported Depa’s ascension to the council but aside from that there was hardly a bias to be shown. They conflicted on topics from time to time and when they both agreed it seemed to be from different views.

“Have you known any other Jedi to have an unnatural connection to their padawan? Such as a parental one as I was suggesting?”

His line of questioning is odd, he knows this, but Obi-Wan knows where he is taking this, and what he wants out of Depa.

“I am...unsure. Connections such as those are forbidden. Close bonds are formed but never to an extreme you might be suggesting.” Her brows knit in concern and Depa reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his knee. “Obi-Wan what’s wrong?”

“I will be leaving the order very soon if it will not reform.” Obi-Wan confesses.

His admission is to of no surprise to Depa but she _is_ surprised at his ambition.

“That’s a daunting task, I’m not sure if it’s something I can support.”

“Why not?” Obi-Wan asks, frustrated. “Why would you agree with the council when they’ve taken away things from you such as the experience of having a family? We’re held here as servants, unable to leave because there’s no other choice. We’re like the clones who have been raised on nothing but these ideals that have no use in the real world.”

Depa is calm when she looks Obi-Wan in the eye. “I am a servant, so to speak. A servant of the light. The Jedi have given me a home and somewhere I belong. It is not for everyone but the rules upholded by the council and order are in place for a reason. Why would I pander for a family when I have no idea what that feeling even is? Why would I ask for more when I am content with what I am given?”

 _Because there is so much more out there._ Obi-Wan thinks but he keeps a tight lip. _There is so much more when you love and you allow yourself to love and others to love you._

“What of your sister, is she not your family?”

Depa leans back to her seat and her expression is grim and closed off.

“I barely spoke to her. Our interactions were watched closely to keep our attachment at minimum. The dangers of forming a bond were too great. Her death was tragic but nothing could have prevented it, it was the will of the force for her to leave and while it is a loss to us it was not a loss to me.”

“I see.” Obi-Wan says softly. “I’m afraid I have more reports to catch up on if you’ll excuse me then.” He doesn’t want to spend another minute in front of Depa’s judgements regardless of whether or not she believe them to be judgements.

“Obi-Wan, please.” She moves to stop him when he rises to leave her room. “This worries me greatly, is it about Anakin? You don’t see Anakin as your-”

“No.” Obi-Wan immediately dismisses her. “That’s-- Never. He’s my close friend, Depa. I don’t think you will understand my viewpoint so it be better we drop this.”

She offers no resistance and he leaves her room as tense as when he entered it. Depa’s insinuation makes his skin crawl and he knows there will be many like her who will not understand the relationship he and Anakin share. It is nothing like that of a normal apprenticeship and were it any other way he would loathe to find himself in this position to begin with.

Maybe if he had coddled Anakin like that of Arren, or cared more about his training than a fulfillment to Qui-Gon or the council maybe they would be just like Depa. A heartless connection, severed at finish just as Mace had done and just as Depa will do with Caleb at the end of his apprenticeship.

Instead they had not set aside their differences until Anakin’s adulthood and knighting, when their bond was not severed and when the cold nights of the Clone Wars had rekindled a dying connection.

At first Obi-Wan had been worried if perhaps Anakin had chosen him because there was no one else who had understood him. Perhaps he was the only one who Anakin trusted which is why he had gone to Obi-Wan for a deeper relationship than that of friendship. However, the man and all his quirks had laughed and said of course not. He hardly thought of Obi-Wan while he was growing up, teenage mind addled with thoughts of fitting in with the other children and being the good Jedi he was meant to be.

Obi-Wan is not surprised that Anakin was always meant for a different path, connection with his mother and all. To have love stripped away from you have after learning to live with it as a constant presence in your life must have been terrible for Anakin and he wishes the order were not so heartless as it was.

He is still reeling from his conversation with Depa when he arrives back to his quarters and he resolves that he will simply have to meditate his bad emotions away. He is frustrated that Depa could be so unconsciously cold, dismissing family and her friends in such a way. She does not want to see Obi-Wan better because she loves him, but because it is the right thing to do in the way of the Jedi’s eyes. He hates that the order has forcibly separated Depa from her emotions and he is angry at both sides of the conversation and his own inability to connect and convince people to see things in his view.

It’s almost laughable how much Anakin has rubbed off on him and he frowns at how much he misses the man even though they had only seen each other just yesterday.

He immediately opens his eyes when he senses the presence of another in the room that is definitely not anyone he is familiar with in the temple. The hand that flies towards his saber stops when he sees an amused Arren Kae, sitting cross-legged on his couch, the faint blue glow of the force around her.

“Do most Jedi meditate with such an unsightly scowl on their face?”

Obi-Wan lowers his hand slowly with caution. “No. How are you here?” He’s seen glimpses of Qui-Gon’s force essence, though never as strongly as Arren’s which shines brightly as if she were still alive and breathing. Healthy and beautiful as she was all those thousands of years ago.

She ignores him and looks around his room, taking in the simplicity of it.

“Your thinking was irritating me, I’ve not been with you very long but I thought it was strange when I felt your emotions...so twisted.” Her eyes glance over to the small plants in his room and she smiles as if recalling a sweet memory.

“I wasn’t aware you were ‘with me’ at all. You didn’t answer my question.”

Arren shrugs and she points to Revan’s journal, forgotten on the table amidst all of Obi-Wan’s other notes.

“Does that answer your question, young one? I can’t offer any more than that. There are things even unknown to those who have all the answers in front of them.”

She’s just as cryptic as Qui-Gon, and annoying as well, and Obi-Wan holds back pointing out that he’s not a ‘young one’ at all. Arren looks no older than Anakin in her ghost form and he wonders if that suggests she had died young as well.

“You’re nosy and you project terribly, you know. Maybe I just want to look this way because I’m vain.” Arren says, face scrunched up in distaste. Obi-Wan apologizes and Arren rolls her eyes.

“I’m just pulling your leg, I know all about you and your problems.” She winks and Obi-Wan experiences a fleeting feeling of horror at the realization that the journal that Arren apparently occupies has been present in his room. Especially when Anakin had been here.

“Honey, when you’ve been dead as long as me I don’t think anything is embarrassing anymore.” Arren deadpans and she crosses her arms casually.

“Now, you’re irritated with the Jedi as usual, I’m curious as to why.”

Obi-Wan’s head spins to catch up with all that is happening to him and when he finally wraps his head around the fact that the force ghost of a four thousand year old Jedi is in his room speaking to him he has the urge to crawl into his bed to sleep away how strange his life has become.

“That dream I had about you, was it real? Those events? Your longing for Revan as your own and your relationship with Kreia? There’s so much I don’t understand-”

“Woah, slow down there.” Arren says holding out a pale hand. She hums and rocks her head to the side and back. “Maybe yes...Maybe no. There is truth in some of what you saw and lies in others. As you’ve already guessed though, it’s of no relevance to what you could possibly bring up the council. I think I’ll keep the truth to myself.” This answer doesn’t end Obi-Wan’s curiosity and he’s mildly disappointed.

“How far are you in my student’s journal? There’s only so much I can actually sense with my connection. I’m not exactly allowed much freedom.” Obi-Wan gets up to reach for the journal and he takes a seat across from Arren.

“I’ve just reached towards the end of Revan’s apprenticeship, or what I’m assuming it to be.”

Arren’s expression is sad and she asks if Obi-Wan would be bothered to read the entry to her.

“I’m an entity of the force, somewhat. I’m here only because I’m preserved in the journal. I can’t go far from it and it’s my only ticket to accessing your world. I can’t...see what’s inside of the journal either. I only know of the events that I lived through.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan says and he clears his throat as he removes his bookmark in the journal and begins to recite the text to Arren.

 

-

_As I begin my twenty-first year, I cannot help but wonder what my place is in all of this. The Jedi Code is nothing more to me than a blank slate upon which I make my own interpretations. How the council may view it is absurd. It is no wonder many choose to walk the path of the dark side. To be chained and held back by such bindings is doing nothing more than stopping their own students from progressing._

-

“Oh, yes.” Arren muses fondly. “They were always adamant about the code and its meanings.

“To hunger for power is the path to the dark side, is it not?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Perhaps…” Arren answers. “But power comes in many forms, young one.”

Obi-Wan holds back the twitch of a smile at Arren’s nickname for him.

“Well, what are you waiting for, continue on. I assume Revan’s headed somewhere with this, they do enjoy their monologues.”

 

-

_Love is a strange concept. I find myself knowing that this pursuit will hold me back but I cannot stop it. Perhaps there is danger in attachment but also there is power. I love my Masters as I love the stars. I love my friends and companions as I love the skies. I love Arren as one would love a Mother, although I have never had one. I have spoken to Alek of his parents and he has told me much about what it is like to have one._

-

Arren’s eyes glisten in admiration and she smiles. Although Obi-Wan can only squint in confusion at the passage.

“Alek was in contact with his parents?”

Arren shrugs. “Times were different in the past. Alek was a senator’s son. He was accepted into the order but naturally at a later age. Alek still had connections with his father. Perhaps it was a folly within the order to accept him, when you follow what happens to him later, but back then the Senate, the Jedi, the Republic, all these factions, who were they to deny a force-sensitive senator’s son entry as a promising student into the Jedi academy? You would understand the tension it would bring.”

 

-

_Arren is my teacher but she has allowed me closer than a Master should. My wandering mind that strays from the code and of tradition is allowed safe haven within her arms._

-

“Oh.” Arren says softly to herself. “I know what day this was. Revan had come to me about love and attachments that day.”

Obi-Wan looks up from the book. “Did you know Revan viewed you as a mother?”

Arren has a look of regret on her face. “I could never be Revan’s mother.” Her whisper full of melancholy. “A padawan may wish and wish for a parent within their masters but they will never receive that. I’m sure it was a passing thought to Revan, I won’t spoil the rest of their tale to you, but Revan and I became equals later on in their life due to extenuating circumstance.”

 

-

_When I had brought my doubts to Alek on the subject of attachments, he was skeptical at best. Perhaps his Master his feeding him the same bland code jargon that all the others do as well. He did not seem upset at my admissions though, but supportive. Alek is my closest companion, I am proud to also call him my lover. That word! It already feels so foreign on my tongue AND on paper. My confession couldn’t have been more blunt, of course. Alek is like a durasteel wall. He will take anything I throw at him and not be moved, but in rare occasion, echo it back. Should I be surprised he returns my affections? I still cannot believe we shared a kiss outside of our sparring room. When I return there I don’t think I will be able to think of anything but that when I am supposed to be training. Enough of my lovesick musings, however, it is the answer that I received from my Master, Arren Kae that has left me with doubts of the Jedi Order and it’s code, as I always do._

-

Obi-Wan moves to grab the closest datapad and furiously jots down this new information. Revan is twenty-one, begun a relationship with their fellow padawan in training, Alek--

“You seem awfully involved with this journal of my student.”

Obi-Wan looks up. “Of course, it’s interesting as well as a historical artifact. It holds information of a time when the order was different. It only feels right to catalog its contents.”

Arren only shrugs again and hums lightly.

“Revan wasn’t scared that day they came to me to tell me they were involved with Alek. They were determined and fierce. It was as if my disapproval was what they were seeking. To cement sort of...theory of theirs. Revan had many of those…”

“Did you disapprove?”

“Read on, perhaps Revan can answer you.”

 

-

_I have always found Arren to be a gentle teacher, harsh in her lessons of combat but easy on the mind and soul. I was not expecting the openness and acceptance of my admission to her. She was happy for me when I had told her of Alek and I. She only ask I take caution, not in the dangers related to the force or attachment, but that I do not allow my heart to be damaged by such a small thing such as a romance. I would be curious as why she would not reprimand me, why an esteemed Jedi, who had been made a Master so young, would glaze over one such as I breaking one of the most biggest rules. I was given my answer directly._

_Love is not an uncommon emotion to walk the halls of this temple it seems. Many of the Jedi harbor secret lovers, to the council's knowledge and without. It is frowned upon yes, urged to be ended, but never grounds for punishment._

_Arren had many lovers. She would not tell me who, for their safety and for some reason, the safety of herself. I did not pry, and I will not pry, for I respect her privacy, but I am filled with delight to know my own Master was never one for sticking to the books._

-

The entry ends there. It seems Revan is not the only one surprised by Arren’s admissions, as Obi-Wan grows more and more astonished that the Order was so open back then.“Many lovers? How many others besides Kreia and the Senator were there?”

Arren laughs, “I never confirmed the Senator nor Kreia from your dream, young one. I will not lie and say they were not mine, however. Perhaps I stretched the truth to ease Revan's addled mind. I regret not telling them the whole of my struggles at this time.” Arren let's out a big sigh and she seems as if ready to leave. “Unfortunately you're about to hit the darker part of my life under the Order, maybe it best I leave you to it. Alone.”

Obi-Wan shuts the journal quietly.

“I quite enjoy your company, it's much more helpful to have your comments on the events.”

He is given another sad smile and Arren’s presence flickers.

“I cannot bear what happens next in Revan's life after this. I rather you see for yourself why I am reluctant to speak of it openly.”

With that Obi-Wan nods with as much respect and understanding he can project and thanks Arren for revealing herself to him. She only laughs once more and disappears, fading out from the living with a haze of the force still filling the spot she once sat.

  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out 2 inspiration and more free time so here y'all go. i think this is going to be the part where a lot of new characters start getting introduced, feel free to search up these names on wookieepedia for visual references & more info (but they might give small spoilers as to what happens next so beware)
> 
> & for the curious this fic miiiight end up being a lot longer than planned. i've got a lot to cover on revan but anakin & obi-wan will definitely be interacting more as we dive deeper into what happened to them.

The faint sound of heavy mumbling and the clang of metal hitting the ground startles Anakin out of his sleep. He’s sprawled halfway on the ground and the edge of a cushion when he realizes he’s inside of Revan’s quarters.

 _Not awake at all._ Anakin thinks stubbornly. _Another stupid dream._

He peers around the corner of the small sitting area to where Revan’s desk is located. They’re no longer the young child they were when Anakin had first met them. Now, an adult and soon to be knighted, Revan holds the appearance of a promising Jedi. They frequently lament their disappointment that Alek had grown to be taller than them to Anakin, although he can’t really relate. He’s almost a head taller than Obi-Wan and it seems almost every other Jedi at the temple is miniscule to him. He doesn’t comment that to Revan though.

Right now, Revan is in a disarray, shoving datapads to the floor as well as papers in an attempt to find something. Their hair is tied back as neatly as possible considering how their frizzy curls never seem to want to stay where they’re put.

“Ah-hah!” Revan exclaims, apparently finding whatever they were looking for as they lift what seems to be a sock from the mess on their desk.

They’re half dressed, not indecent, just bouncing around without their outer robes fitted on and Anakin lets a yawn out. Is it even normal to be able to be tired in your own dream? He rubs at his eyes.

“Where are we headed today, oh Great One?” He drawls, using the nickname he’s given Revan during all his forays into their dream world. Revan has got to be the most annoying Jedi Anakin has ever met. Polite as a child but growing up to be a rowdy rulebreaker. They’ve shown nothing but the utmost respect towards their masters but behind closed doors and especially to Anakin, Revan has been nothing but rude and demanding.

“Oh, you’re up! Finally! I’m late for an urgent council meeting. Do you think they’ve finally accepted my request to study at the Dantooine enclave? I certainly hope so.” Anakin stares sleepily as Revan attempts to put on their sock while still standing. They hop around clumsily and quickly grab their outer robes to begin finishing dressing.

“And how many times have you requested to go to the Dantooine enclave and been rejected again?” Anakin asks, resting a hand on his cheek as he rests his elbow lazily on the edge of the couch seat. The Dantooine enclave was a popular topic amongst graduating Knights of the order. Only select few were allowed to continue their training there and were trained through a variety of masters. While Revan would still have to return to the Coruscant temple to finish their trials through Arren afterwards, they’ve been eagerly urging the council to allow them to study under the council stationed at Dantooine for a few short years until then.

“Ever since I turned sixteen.” Revan says proudly. While the enclave wasn’t entirely unknown to the younger padawans, it wasn’t discussed openly. Mostly to prevent younger students into letting ambition get the better of them. Revan of course, had heard about it from Alek with his connection to his father, who then in turn asked Arren about it. Arren had eagerly supported Revan in requesting the transfer due to Revan’s incredible force affinity but time after time they had been rejected and told to wait until a later time.

“I think this is it, though.” Revan says excitedly as they toss on their final piece of clothing. “Why else would I be called in? I’m twenty-three, I’ll be knighted in less than three years, if not now then there will be no better time for me to go to the enclave.”

With a last click of the clasps on their boots, Revan puts their hands on their hips and looks expectantly at Anakin. “Well? Are you ready to go?”

Holding back protest, Anakin reluctantly gets to his feet. While he doesn’t mind accompanying Revan places, it seems the only person who ever knows he’s there _is_ Revan. They aren’t the worst company and he agrees with many of Revan’s disagreements of the code and the Jedi but they’re an overwhelming presence in Anakin’s mind and body. A dark swirl of the force that’s hidden and waiting to be let out. He knows of Revan’s future and what to expect but not _how_ it happened and that’s what frightens Anakin the most.

The walk to the council room is a short one and when the two reach the large ornamented doors Revan pauses before entering.

“Do you feel that?” They ask Anakin with eager anticipation. “I can feel Arren’s force signature inside. She’s not on the council, this has to be it!” Anakin believes them for a minute, their excitement transferring to him and he truly thinks that maybe Revan’s wish has finally been granted.

What meets them inside the room is nothing either of them have planned for.

The council room has not changed one bit, Anakin thinks. It's the same distinguished room that began his journey as a Jedi, the only difference are the people sitting in the chairs, none of whom Anakin recognise. The only chair empty is that of the Grand Master’s, and in its place stands a young white-haired woman. She is a beacon of authority, robes a blinding white with Ansata patterns lining the fabric that stand out amongst the others in the council who are drenched in a sea of brown. It takes Anakin a moment to realize that she holds a striking resemblance to Jocasta Nu, as if she were younger.

In the middle of the room Arren Kae faces the council but what startles Anakin is Obi-Wan standing right beside her.

He calls out to him and Obi-Wan turns abruptly in surprise at Anakin's presence. He signals to Anakin to wait just a moment and Anakin nods in understanding. He doesn’t know if this is just another instance of his dreams showing him things that aren’t real but he’ll ignore it for now.

“I'm here as you called, Masters.” Revan breaks the silence of the room, giving a deep bow of respect.

Revan shoots Anakin a questioning look before walking forward to join Arren's side.

“Halt.” The commanding voice of the woman in white pierces through the room and Revan stumbles back in confusion.

“Yes, Master Atris?” Revan asks and Anakin doesn’t miss the contempt in their voice. Something doesn’t sit right with the aura of the room. “Might I ask why Grand Master Sunrider is missing?” Whatever Atris is about to say, interrupted by Revan’s query.

Atris lips are in a thin line and she lowers herself into the Grand Master’s chair as elegantly as possible. “She is away on important business. As Jedi historian I will be overseeing today’s trial of Jedi Master Arren Kae. Master Vandar will offer his assistance as well.”

“Trial?” Revan says in disbelief. “What do you mean? Has she committed a crime?” Hysteria flooding Revan’s voice.

Ahead of them Arren does not budge. She stands with her head bowed low and Obi-Wan himself has a grim look on his face. He seems to whisper something to Arren but all she does is shake her head and he relents. Obi-Wan’s legs seem to stutter for a moment in indecision before he finally walks to where Anakin is aside Revan’s place.

“She is to be exiled.” Obi-Wan whispers to Anakin, and Atris speaks before he can reply.

“Padawan Revan, you are to be transferred to the Dantooine enclave effective immediately. Masters Vash, Vrook, Vandar, and Zez-Kai Ell will accompany you to your destination.” Atris’s voice holds no emotion, a cold feeling of finality in her words.

“You are being assigned a new Master. Please step forward and allow Master Kae to remove your bond.”

Dread is the only thing that Revan feels and Anakin winces at the pain that comes along with being able to feel their emotions.

“Why is our bond being broken? I’m returning afterwards to complete my trials am I not?” Revan demands.

Master Vrook clears his throat. He is an aging man, wrinkles litter his face and what little left of his hair is a deep grey. “Arren Kae has committed a heinous crime against the order. She is not fit to be your Master, nor a Jedi no longer.” His voice is void of anger, but the small trace of disappointment in it is not lost.

Arren’s eyes close in pain at the last statement although she still does not speak out against her sentence.

“Revan, please.” She whispers simply and turns to beckon them forward. “Don’t fight them.”

“Master, explain.” Revan says, eyes serious as they refuse to step closer.

Arren turns back to Atris, face sullen and head hung low. “Please, they deserve to know why.”

Atris huffs impatiently and she grips the handles of her chair tighter.

“Padawan Revan, your Master has been harboring a hidden affair for over ten years. Although, you were aware of this were you not?”

Revan’s eyes widen and they nod reluctantly. “Yes, but I don’t understand why that would be a problem, you’ve never condemned relationships within or outside of the order as harshly as you are now.”

Master Vash scoffs, she is a fair woman with black hair tied back neatly. “Our order does not condemn that yes, but it forbids children to be born out of those relationships.” She almost hisses.

“A child?” Revan asks. “Master, is this true?”

Arren folds her hands into her robes and she nods. “Yes.” She answers brokenly. “Revan, you cannot go against them, it is my fault, please. Just come over here.”

“No.” Revan says firmly. “Where is this child? You don’t have any proof at all they exist. I have never seen them in these halls nor has Arren even had time to care for them.”

“The child…” Vrook says tiredly. “Is with Senator Yusanis of the Echani. But soon she will be a child no longer.” He trails off.

“How long?” Revan demands to Arren, finally taking a step forward. “How long did you hide this from me?”

Arren buries her fingers into her robes as she kneels in front of her student. “Years, years…” She whispers. “The child’s name is Brianna, she’s a young girl by now I assume. Maybe ten, eleven?”

“You assume?”

“I gave her away to Yusanis!” Arren confesses. “I thought I’d be safe if I never touched the child, she would be mine but would see no harm from the order and I’d still be able to train you if the council did not discover her. She is safe with Yusanis. They cannot take her away from him but they...they can take this away from me.” She says as she removes her saber from her belt. “I am so sorry Revan.”

Revan drops to their knees in front of Arren and grabs one of her hands gently. She does not shed any tears but her eyes are empty and Revan whispers something to Arren that neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan fully catch.

Revan and Arren only proceed to close their eyes and the force twists itself around them in icy blue tendrils. The council do not say anything, only wait in quiet as Arren painstakingly unties the bond that is between her and Revan.

Anakin reaches for Obi-Wan’s arm when he feels the first instance of emptiness that grabs a hold of him at Arren’s sudden absence.

“I can’t feel her anymore.” He whispers and Obi-Wan is at his side to support him as he falls to his knees all the same as Revan. “Obi-Wan I can’t...It’s like I’m missing a part of something.” His words pick up speed. “I can’t feel you either, Obi-Wan-” Anakin says worriedly and Obi-Wan only runs a hand down his hair as he allows Anakin to lean on his shoulder.

“I’m right here, it’s the dream. It will pass.” He says soothingly but he keeps his eyes forward as he watches Revan collapse forward all the same into Arren’s arms, panting with exhaustion.

“It’s done.” Revan says through gritted teeth and a tight jaw. “Are you happy?” They ask Atris angrily.

“Watch your emotions, Revan.” Atris warns. “You may be the order’s brightest but that does not grant you special treatment.”

Master Zez-Kai Ell rises from his seat. “Arren, your saber.”

Shakily, Arren reaches for her saber and rises slowly, Revan moves to offer assistance but she refuses it. Zez-Kai Ell meets her halfway, gingerly placing a hand on her shoulder as he accepts the surrendered saber from Arren’s hands and he returns to his seat, a solemn look upon his bearded face.

Atris watches the exchange in silence, waiting for Zez-Kai Ell to take his chair before continuing with the trial.

“Jedi Master Arren Kae, you are stripped of your rank and place amongst the Jedi order. Your lightsaber will remain here with us, and you are to be exiled. Do you understand your sentence?”

“Yes, Master.” Arren says firmly in a hushed voice.

“You will be allowed short leave within the temple to gather your things and say your goodbyes. I assume I do not need to warn you of what may happen should you linger?”

“No, Master.”

“Very well.” Atris says, sitting up a bit. “You are dismissed.” She turns to Revan. “Padawan Revan, a word?”

“Of course, Master Atris.” Revan says obediently, malice lacing their tone.

-

“Anakin, are you alright?” Obi-Wan asks as he aids Anakin in gaining his footing once more. For some reason it seems that Revan and Anakin share a pseudo force bond in the dreams. He knows it isn’t real and as soon as Anakin wakes it will disappear as if it were never there but the mental drag Anakin must be suffering from it still worries him. “I’m going to follow Arren, will you be fine here?”

Anakin waves him off and Obi-Wan gives him a comforting pat on the arm as he runs to catch up with Arren.

“Padawan Alek will be joining you as well on your journey to Dantooine along with Padawan Surik and the younglings Shan and Mical. Please inform them their departure will be take place tomorrow morning.” Atris begins telling Revan. Anakin steps closer to the two Jedi to get a better hearing of their conversation.

“You will be assigned your new Master at the enclave once you arrive, your training path will not change, you are still expected to go through your trials at the appointed year that was discussed.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“There is something that has concerned me of late regarding your studies, I’ve heard from many other masters that you have been studying a variety of subjects outside of what Arren has assigned. Force bonds in particular.”

“...”

Anakin blinks when he realizes that he missed Revan’s answer to Atris’s question.

“I see...” Atris answers although Anakin doesn’t catch the last half of the sentence. Their figures begin to blur as well and Anakin stumbles before realizing the dream is ending and he is waking. He tries his best to hold on but one by one his grip on awareness is lost as he dives back into his own world.

His head throbs when he wakes. He groans as he lifts his head from the awkward position he had fallen asleep in; against one of the boxes in his room that holds various droid parts.

There is still a lingering feeling of fury and emptiness leftover from Revan and he does his best to hold back the urge to hurl. In its stead is also fear, a fear that Obi-Wan’s fate will be just as the same as Arren’s, no room for explanation, no one to hear his reasons. A quick cut from everything he is, as if the order would nip a dying flower from their garden because it does not fit in with the others. He is on his feet in a hurry, running outside of his door and down the halls towards Obi-Wan’s quarters as fast as he can. It’s a stupid feeling, Anakin knows, to be fearful of something that hasn’t even happened yet. He just needs to be sure that Obi-Wan is here, the after effects of the dream fill his head with nonsensical thoughts that cannot be eased without Obi-Wan’s presence.

-

“Arren!” Obi-Wan calls without abandon, knowing no one else but Arren can hear him in this dream-like world.

She does not turn but her feet carry her further and further into the temple until she finally slows down in a corridor that Obi-Wan recognizes from his previous dream.

“Kreia!” Arren shouts as she loudly bangs her fists against one of the doors leading to the archives. “Kreia, please, it is urgent!”

Obi-Wan watches in wait as the doors slide open slowly and the tired face of Kreia appears. She is as the same as she appeared in his dreams the other day except older. Her once brown-hair is streaked with grey and several new wrinkles decorate the skin around her milky white eyes.

“Have you finally learned your lesson, you tiresome woman?” Kreia says in greeting. Body still hiding behind the door of the archives.

“Kreia, please, I’m sorry! You have to teach Revan in my stead there is no one else I trust.” Arren insists, placing a hand on the door to pry it open further but Kreia does not allow her to do so.

“You fool.” Kreia spits. “I’ve already been informed by the council of their decisions. I am already to be Revan’s new Master. It is of no favor to you.”

Arren freezes and her hands fall from the door. “Kreia…I’m sorry I never told you-”

“I tire of holding your hand through your life, Arren. Perhaps you may believe that others will help you but that time has run out. I have never been your confidant nor will I ever. It’s a pity Revan was given to you to ever begin with. You do not deserve them.”

“Revan is not an object-!” Arren starts but the door is slammed shut and she jumps back to avoid injury.

“Arren.” Obi-Wan says, startling Arren out of her haze of desperation.

“You!” Arren exclaims. “You know what happens after this!” Her hands grip the front of Obi-Wan’s robes roughly. He stumbles back in surprise but does not force her off of him. “You know that everything will fall apart after this.” She says furiously. “Revan was never at fault. You have to realize, Revan never meant any of it. They only ever wanted to do what was right and the council! It’s all their fault!” Arren moans with agony.

“Arren, what happens after this?” Obi-Wan asks calmly.

“I...I don’t know.” Arren says in confusion. “Only you know the answer to that. That’s why you’re here. You have to learn why.” Her voice once more like a script she recites off paper. This is not the true Arren, Obi-Wan realizes, but the fake one he had witnessed in his original dream. The real Arren being that of the ghost that had visited him. He has no time to wonder if the events that take place during this dream are all truth as Arren’s hands only grip his robes tighter and he is shaken hard.

“You have to stop them.” Arren says angrily. “You have to save Anakin from them. They are nothing but murderers.” The color in Arren’s face is flooding away and to Obi-Wan’s horror, her eyes are flooded with yellow. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“Obi-Wan!” She ignores him and shouts as he’s shaken further.

“Arren, stop!” Obi-Wan commands, attempting to dislodge Arren’s hands from his robes but he only feels cold metal where her hands should be and he draws them back in shock.

“Obi-Wan!” He hears Arren’s voice call again and his head throbs in pain and he scrunches his eyes shut.

“Obi-Wan, wake up!”

His eyes fly open at the sound of Anakin’s voice, and he is cradled in Anakin’s warmth on the floor of his quarters. The cold metal he is touching is that of Anakin’s hand he realizes and he doesn’t draw back in surprise but closes his fingers around it in comfort.

“It was just the dream.” He mutters to himself.

“It was just the dream.” Anakin affirms. “A fucked up one.” He adds. “You were shouting at me to stop, what did you see after you followed Arren? What happened?”

Obi-Wan sighs and relaxes into Anakin’s hold.

“I don’t know. Arren was begging Kreia to teach Revan, but I don’t think that’s the truth of what happened. I don’t think anything I saw with Arren was real.”

Anakin doesn’t question him further, but he strokes his hand down Obi-Wan’s shoulders to comfort him after his shock.

“The trial was real right? Arren Kae was exiled and Revan was stripped of their master.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan answers with confidence. “Revan was furious, not only were they attached to Arren Kae as their teacher but Arren had become their close friend. I don’t think--I don’t think Revan trusted the council or the order ever again after that.” There’s a hint of realization in Obi-Wan’s voice.

“Anakin, Arren’s force ghost visited me a few days ago. It wasn’t a very important meeting, we only discussed the same things that the journal spoke of, but I feel like I should let you know.”

Anakin smiles and places a kiss on Obi-Wan’s head.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m also guessing that was really you in my dream then? It looks like we can communicate when we’re in that world together.”

Obi-Wan nods. “The dreams seem to be a fabrication of what really happened in the past. Some of it is true and some of it is a lie. Revan’s journal is the only proof we have of what’s real or not. It seems to be the direct cause of these dreams as well. I also believe Arren may be influencing them, her force ghost hinted that certain events were created by her own will.”

“Great!” Anakin says sarcastically. “As if one twisted force artifact messing with us wasn’t enough.”

“We have to stay sharp.” Obi-Wan reminds him. “While our actions might not have an affect on what truly happened in history, it’s still dangerous to do or say anything out of place.”

“How so?”

“I’m not sure. There’s just...this feeling that we should cause the least ill will possible…”

Anakin shrugs. “Fine by me. Do you want to lay down? You’re still shaking.” He doesn’t project his worry to Obi-Wan in an effort to keep his own calm composure.

“Am I?” Obi-Wan asks with wonder. “I--yes that would be for the best, I think.” When he tries to get up he lets out a disappointed grunt as he falls back, legs giving out. “This is a tad embarrassing.”

Anakin laughs softly. “Here, hold on, I’ll carry you there.”

He doesn’t protest at Anakin’s suggestion and that’s how Anakin knows that Obi-Wan _really_ must be worn out.

When he deposits Obi-Wan into his bed he sits on the edge as he watches Obi-Wan shut his eyes and let out a relieved sigh.

“Come here, Anakin.”

There it is, Anakin thinks as he smiles, lowering himself to face Obi-Wan. He places a hand on Obi-Wan’s hip and gives him quick kiss on the nose.

“I won’t allow what happened to Arren happen to you.” Anakin says quietly. He knows the council would never force them to get rid of their bond or surrender their sabers, but he can’t help but wish to affirm to Obi-Wan that he will stay by his side no matter what.

“I know. I just...I feel so sorry for Arren. She was so troubled by Revan’s safety she forgot about herself. She was losing who she was in her desperation to save Revan.”

Obi-Wan fears that’s what could have happened to him but in the complete opposite way. Pleasing the council, being appointed to Master, and allowing tradition and rules to cloud his views. He doesn’t know how he had lived the years of his life before the Clone Wars thinking everything the order did was right. It’s terrible and he feels sick thinking about how many others he too also looked down upon for going against the code. How many times has he chided Anakin for having feelings or emotions? How many times has he become one of the code reciting machines that the council has made the Jedi out to be in order to be the perfect Jedi in their eyes?

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin says with a hand on his cheek. “Obi-Wan you’re not like that. Please don’t think that.”

Obi-Wan does not answer him, instead he wraps his arms around Anakin’s torso and buries his head in the taller man’s robes.

Anakin squeezes Obi-Wan to his chest. “I love you so much.” There is an answering squeeze back from Obi-Wan and Anakin smiles as he relaxes his hold. He won’t pressure Obi-Wan into discussing anything further. He projects feelings of love and calmness as strong as possible through their bond as he wills Obi-Wan to rest his addled mind. Anakin doesn’t allow his eyes to drift shut until he feels Obi-Wan slip away into a dreamless sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things get a bit dice-y and my writing is everywhere in this chapter, let me know if i need to clarify anything

Kreia is an odd old woman. Much of her younger years had been spent in silence, away from the other Jedi and in close contact with her Master. Even to the older of the Order’s Jedi, much is lost in the history of who had taught her, for their name seems like dust on paper. Revan remembers very little of Kreia, they were only a youngling when they had seen their first glimpses of Jedi Knight Kreia’s crimson robes that would sweep the halls of the Archive rooms as she studied.

The only thing that Revan knows for sure is that Arren and Kreia had been close childhood friends. Much of the Order knew that they had a bit of a friendly rivalry between each other and that they were practically inseparable.

In some way, Arren’s exile feels right. Arren was never a textbook Jedi and Revan is glad she is no longer bound by the rules of the Order. Arren will be free to reunite with Yusanis and Brianna. A perfect ending, Revan will not hold her back with their desires for knowledge and a guide. Arren had done all that was needed of her. Revan will let go.

“Your thoughts wander, Padawan. We are here to empty your head not fill it with more mindless chatter.” Kreia’s voice, a knife shattering the calm that Revan had created within themselves.

Kreia is an odd old woman, Revan thinks. Kreia is an asshole too.

Revan is wise enough to shield that afterthought from her.

They have not been studying under Kreia for very long, a few months at most. Kreia is harsh and unforgiving, she points out Revan’s weaknesses with ease and she is nothing like any of the other masters that Revan has been taught by. Kreia does not wield the force like any other Jedi. It’s as if the force bends to her will at the command of her sharp tongue and insults. Her mind is empty and the temporary bond that Kreia holds with Revan is empty and barren. It is lonesome and Revan hates it but all the same it is a wasteland that Revan finds comfort in. For now, Revan cannot help but wonder how Arren had become friends with such an empty and cold woman. It’s hard for Revan to imagine their exiled Master as a young girl, playing on the grounds of the temple with Kreia.

“Rise.” Kreia says with a sigh. “If you cannot focus we will talk. Sit.”

Reluctantly standing, Revan moves from their position on the meditation mat to the Order-regulation table and its two seats in Kreia’s quarters.

A minute or more passes in silence, until Revan finally shifts in discomfort. _Not even a ‘What troubles you my young, Padawan?’_ or ‘ _Tell me what’s up_?’ Revan looks at Kreia’s empty eyes in frustration.

“I would have assumed you be pertinent enough to open up to me without prompt. I am not here to order you around, Revan”

“It’s...about Master Kae.” Revan says with hesitation.

“That’s Arren to us, Revan. She is no longer deserving of her title. Arren is not an uncomfortable topic for me. Speak freely about her if you wish.” Kreia says calmly.

Revan bites back the feeling of irritation they hold at Kreia’s dismissal of Arren.

“Do you think Arren will be better off without the Order?”

Kreia’s eyes seem to gaze into Revan’s very being as she contemplates Revan’s question.

“How well do you know the Jedi Code?”

It’s a silly question to Revan and they answer confidently. “I have it memorized as well as any other Padawan or Initiate would if that is what you ask.”

“How familiar are you with the Sith Code?”

At that, Revan does not know what they should say. It has appeared many times in more of the unconventional studies, when trying to understand the Sith and why they do what they do. Why it is dangerous to avoid certain emotions and what specifically causes a Jedi to fall to the dark side.

“Very little.” Revan says cautiously. “I’ve come across it from time to time but I don’t have it committed to memory. Should I?”

Kreia does not answer Revan’s question nor comment on their studies.

“What is the main purpose of the Jedi Code? Do not recite it back to me, simply state to me its purpose in your eyes.”

An odd path of instruction but Revan does not inquire as to why. The code is something Revan has studied and criticized frequently alongside Arren and Alek, it is nothing foreign to them.

“The code is the basis of our order. It is what the Jedi aspire to be. It is...us as a whole, as an organization and as a being. It is our purpose.”

“The code is a set of rules, is it not? Do you not find parts of those rules constricting or odd?”

Revan’s face dons an expression of confusion. Rules, yes. Rules that Revan has broken but not because Revan had felt restricted by them. Revan had not broken them on purpose, it had just happened. Why constrain yourself, why hold yourself back from becoming something stronger that could be used to help people? If it is done in good then rules must be broken. They do not dwell on their mistakes or misgivings.

“This is why you are different.” Kreia says, plucking Revan’s thoughts from their mind with ease. “You do not see the code. You do not see the Order as anything but for what it is. A school and a means to an end that you seek.”

Revan opens their mouth but closes it immediately. An end...an end to what? Kreia is right, Revan has never restricted themselves to one master, to one lesson, to one outlook. The galaxy is too vast to let one’s mind go to waste.

“I...I do not know my purpose as of yet. I just know that I need to know. I must know everything I can before my time is up.”

“Yet the Jedi hold you back. You hold yourself back. You know your relationship with Padawan Alek will be your downfall. Just as Arren’s attachment to you had been hers.”

“I-! How did you know? Did Arren tell you?” Revan asks half in embarrassment and half in tension. It does not alarm Revan but they cannot afford another thing for Kreia to attack and point out as one of the weaknesses Revan wishes they could forget about.

“Your actions bleed like your thoughts. I will not force you to end anything. I am simply here to advise against such relationships. Love will not lead you to the path of the dark side. Love will lead you to the path of the weak.”

“Love is a strength when harnessed correctly.” Revan counters.

“Perhaps, only when it is in support of only one side. Do you intend to manipulate Alek to be forever devoted to you regardless of who you are as a person? Have Alek so in love with you he will lose himself in his rush to become what you desire?”

Stuttering, Revan shakes their head furiously. “No-Of course not! I...I cannot let go of Alek, I know it will hinder me but I...I can’t, he is my deepest friend. I would never use our love like that.”

Kreia does a motion that can only be akin to a shrug.

“The ending of the Sith Code, “ _Through victory, my chains are broken._ ’” Kreia recites. “The Sith view the Jedi as a restriction. They are not wrong. The Jedi will restrict you in ways that are negative and positive. I do not condone the ways of the Sith as anything but detrimental to any who follow their ways. I simply leave you with the lesson that it does good to reflect on one’s self. See through the eyes of your enemy, know what parts they will exploit of you, know why they think the way they do. There is wisdom in that of what the Order does not want exposed because it is their deepest weakness.”

It the most Kreia has spoken to Revan by far. She puts the hood of her robes up, shielding her eyes from the light of the room and she motions for Revan to leave.

“We are done for the day. Return to your quarters. We will spar tomorrow. I advise you to think on my words. Do not let the Order’s rules restrict your thoughts.”

Revan thanks Kreia with a deep bow and exits.

They breathe easy now, away from the white walls of Kreia’s room.

-

“She sounds awfully manipulative of Revan.” Obi-Wan observes from the bench he sits on, Revan's journal in his lap. The two of them are seated inside one of the training rooms, notes and sabers strung about on the floor. It’s a quiet place and peaceful location. Perfect for focusing on the task at hand.

Anakin shrugs from his spot on the floor, seated on a mat. “What for? Kreia didn't say she wasn't a part of the Sith, maybe she's the reason Revan turned all big and nasty.”

That and Anakin wishes Revan’s inevitable downfall was the fault of another. The more and more Anakin learns of them the more he dreads their similarities. Swept up by emotions, Revan may be more polite and level-headed than Anakin but that doesn't take away from their possessive streak with Alek.

He won't deny he hasn't felt riled up when other’s eyes are set on Obi-Wan. The man and all his quirks could charm anyone in a room and while Anakin mostly keeps his thoughts to himself he can't help but be a little overprotective. Especially now with the child. His emotions are amplified due to Revan’s influence in his dreams and he finds himself taking to Obi-Wan’s habit of frequently meditating to center himself.

Obi-Wan isn’t a stranger to Anakin’s odd behavior of late either. Anakin hovers terribly, making sure Obi-Wan is at maximum comfort. Asking if Obi-Wan feels alright, if he’s making it to his appointments every week, to immediately tell Anakin if anything feels wrong. The two had originally come to this training room to spar after their daily researching was done, Obi-Wan urging that it would do no harm to child and that he was feeling cooped up inside of his quarters all day. Anakin agrees with him, his hands fall to his saber frequently these days, itching for a fight. The never-ending war had conditioned him to always be ready and now, with such a long lapse from combat, he feels uncomfortable and antsy.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, breaking Anakin’s trail of thought.

“Sorry, I just…” Anakin stutters. “How are you feeling? With the baby.” He clarifies.

Obi-Wan blinks at the sudden change of subject matter and he looks down at his lap. Toying with the fraying edges of the journal.

“Everything is fine. There is no morning sickness, but Che said not everyone experiences it. I feel fatigued often but there’s little to do about that. The council work must come first.”

The council doesn’t know yet. He won’t tell them until it becomes too obvious to hide his condition but that is of little importance right now. There are no missions for them to avoid, no dire war they must attend to. Obi-Wan only sighs, a mountain of paperwork feels like an entire day in the field at times he admits. “I know that isn’t what’s got you distracted, what’s the issue?”

“Revan. This. Everything?” Anakin seems to ask himself. “The council back then is just as ignorant and suspicious as the council now. Do you even feel safe within the temple anymore?”

Anakin isn’t wrong. More and more of the reports Obi-Wan files these days are filled with Republic regulation and code. Dictations towards the Jedi, how the Jedi will support the Republic and their roles. It’s as if a slow building treaty is being formed between that of the Order and the Republic’s political presence and it’s alarming.

“If you’re asking if I feel safe within the temple, surrounded by my peers and friends then yes. I trust many of our fellow Jedi with my life.” Obi-Wan closes the journal and places it next to him on the bench. “However, if you’re asking if I feel safe under the rule and tongue of the council and these new policies, and what they may think of me once this whole thing becomes public, then no, Anakin, I don’t feel safe.”

Wringing his hands together in frustration, Anakin urges Obi-Wan.

“Don’t you have a say in anything the council is doing? It’s obvious this isn’t what the Order stands for.” It isn’t a matter of just leaving the Order, he understands this. If they allow the Republic and the Jedi to become close it will just lead to more wars. It’s already bad enough that Anakin has to think of the prospect of the younglings in the temple being so twisted by the Order to become soldiers, but that he and Obi-Wan will mostly likely have to raise their child in the same fashion if the Republic succeeds.

“I know. If Padmé and Satine, along with the other senators can do what they want, and form that head of power that we need it won’t be as bad. The Jedi are the issue. The public is adamant about this, Anakin. They do not want a government that is consistently harboring an army. That is not what we are but Master Yoda believes it is the only way we can protect ourselves from the fall out. They will not vote for a stronger Republic with us in the way.” Obi-Wan reaches to run a hand down Anakin’s hair. “I am trying everything but there is little power I have. Even Depa hardly agrees with my views and you know how close we are.” He leaves his seat to press a kiss on Anakin’s forehead. “I will comm Satine later on her progress if it will ease your worries. Now, shall we get started on what we came here to do?”

Anakin smiles and stands, wrapping an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. Their chests pressed against each other, Obi-Wan still barely far along enough to be showing yet. Anakin kisses Obi-Wan firmly, lips brushing and Obi-Wan lets out a content sigh.

“That’s not exactly what I had planned…” He says coyly and Anakin chuckles as he pulls away.

Picking his saber up from the ground, Anakin ignites it and twirls it casually in his hand.

“Well?” He prompts and Obi-Wan shakes his head while rolling his eyes as he reaches for his own saber.

Their dance is an old one, rusty but not forgotten. The moves are all the same and their sabers clash with an elegance unlike any other. Focused and precise, Obi-Wan is far from out of practice and Anakin feels a flurry of contentment at the knowledge that he is very capable of himself. It doesn't take long before Anakin hesitates on a move in fear of overtaxing Obi-Wan’s body. There’s a smirk on Obi-Wan’s face as he spots the opening.

He's easily out-maneuvered and Obi-Wan knocks his saber out of his hands and it clatters to floor, deactivated. Anakin loses his balance as Obi-Wan’s legs sweep his from underneath and he feels himself falling, a golden blur of the floor rushing to meet him.

-

Bruised and calloused hands slam onto the temple’s floors and Revan’s joints ache in protest as they pick themselves off the floor.

“Again.” Kreia commands, wielding a purple saber. The illuminated tip floats inches away from Revan’s chest, manipulated by the force. Kreia sits across on the opposite side of the room, in a manner that Revan wouldn’t exactly call relaxed, though she seems to be able to move the saber with hardly any concentration at all.

“Master, I grow weary.” Their body is numb and sore from the countless drills Kreia has been taking them through since the morning. Revan had half the mind to beg Kreia for a break ten minutes ago but they didn't want to be seen as weak. Now though, Revan can feel their grip on their saber become less and less firm. Their chest heaves in exhaustion and they're frustrated at the old woman’s lack of caring.

“Will the enemy allow you a lapse? To surrender until you are adequately rested?” Kreia asks condescendingly. “Again as I have instructed Padawan.”

Gritting their teeth and with a tight jaw, Revan charges forward once more, limbs like jelly as they try in vain to block the onslaught of strikes from Kreia’s force controlled saber. Revan's efforts are wasted, and the bright glow of their green saber is thrown across the room as they are disarmed. Throwing out a hand behind them to call it back, Revan huffs out a frustrated noise when the force does not bend to their will. The saber clatters across the floor only a few inches before Revan's eyes are rolling to the back of their head, and they promptly collapse onto the training room’s floor.

Kreia deactivates her saber, tucking it safely beneath her robes and she clicks her tongue as she stands over her tired apprentice.

“You do not know yourself, young Revan. To fight beyond your known capabilities and to what purpose? I hold no more command over you than yourself. Who are really trying to please?”

Revan does not answer.

-

“-kin. Anakin, are you alright?”

Anakin wakes with a hand on his back and the worried look of Obi-Wan hovering over him. Pulling himself off the floor he cradles his head in his hands. The flurry of memories that rush through his head shake his mind. Disentangling reality from his visions is a slow process and his head pounds in pain.

“She was so cruel to me…” Anakin mutters in a far-off voice. “She was everything Revan resented-” Everything Revan hated of the Jedi. Everything that was wrong with the Jedi. It was everything Anakin hated too.

“Anakin what did you see?” Obi-Wan interrupts. His hands lay across Anakin's back in support and he feels the small tremors in the other man as he shakes. Anakin’s fall had not been severe, a mere stumble but the man had passed out cold onto the floor, surprising Obi-Wan.

“I hate her--I hated her.” Anakin growls. “She was everything I could not be...I-” Confusion laces his words and he shakes his pounding head.

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin’s raised face with concern. His eyes are clouded over and he ignores Obi-Wan’s presence completely.

“She tried her best but I wasn't good enough not like...Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks, when he finally meets Obi-Wan’s gaze

“Yes, darling, I'm here.” Obi-Wan says softly, careful to not startle Anakin from his shock filled haze.

Sighing in relief, Anakin leans back in Obi-Wan’s hold and the older man gently moves a hand to support his aching head.

“I hate this.” Anakin says closing his eyes. “I see everything Revan experienced. I feel everything they felt. I can't last two fucking minutes in a fight without their blasted past rearing its ugly head in my face!” Anakin spits with frustration.

“This is not your fault.” Obi-Wan soothes, “At the least we won’t be expecting any battles in the near future.” He jokes lightly. It’s getting worse and worse, the visions and the unexpected meddling the Force has done to their lives. “There’s nothing more we can do about this, Anakin. We must finish what happened to Revan.”

Anakin takes a deep breath, centering himself as he rests.

“The next part of the dream, after Kreia questions Revan’s path, the war and Alek.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answers and using the force he calls over one of the many pages of notes under the bench.

-

The sound of heavy footsteps echo down the hall of the temple. Alek rushing after Revan after they had just completed one of their many training sessions with Kreia. He had hoped to catch the other right as they were leaving and he sighs in relief when he sees the swing of their braid as they stalk down the hall.

“Revan!” Alek calls after them. “Have you heard from the council?”

Mood brightening immediately, Revan turns eagerly to speak with Alek. “No, not at all, what’s wrong?”

He taps the datapad in his hands, “The Mandalorians are regrouping fast. The Republic is requesting assistance from the Jedi, not immediately but if the war progresses enough that it will begin affecting Republic worlds.”

Revan accepts the datapad from Alek and they look over it with a troubled face. “Are we to prepare for war then?” The request is unclear, asking the Jedi to look into the prospect of joining the Republic’s side.

Alek shrugs. “The council couldn’t come to an agreement. With Grand Master Sunrider still absent no one wants to agree with Master Atris or make any sudden moves. My own master would not offer his comments, I don’t know much more than that. We were called suddenly to the council hearing which is why I was dragged along. I don’t think I was supposed to be present at all.”

“Of course.” Revan says bitterly. “Knowing Atris she was more than aware you were going to be called in as well. Your father is a senator, Alek. They probably want you to relay their indecision back to the Republic in a discrete way.”

Alek stares at Revan in surprise. “I’m hardly in contact with my father! Do they really think I’ve been sneaking behind their backs to talk to him? That’s absurd.”

Revan shoves the datapad back into Alek’s hands and motions for him to follow. “There’s a lot of things the council wants to accuse of the two of us. I think that’s why they assigned Master Kreia to me.”

“Truly?” Alek asks. “Is she that bad? I’ve heard she’s a loner in regards to the other masters, do you think they’re trying to isolate you as well?”

Revan bites their lip in thought. “I don’t want to assume anything too quickly. She’ll find out. All I can do is focus what I want. Master Kreia can give that to me. She knows more than she lets on.”

Resisting the urge to ask what Revan could possibly mean by that, Alek pushes his thoughts away. His friend’s behavior has been more than odd lately but he knows he would follow Revan to the ends of the galaxy regardless.

“Alek-” Revan starts, placing a hand on their friend’s shoulder before they’re knocked apart by a blur of brown robes.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry!” The stranger apologizes. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” The girl matches Revan in height but Alek still towers over the both of them. Her brown hair is tied neatly into pigtails and she is carrying a mass of books.

Laughing, Revan shakes off her apology. “It’s fine, where were you headed?”

“The archives, my Master has summoned me immediately. I would love to stay and chat but I must be on my way.”

“Of course, Bastila. Perhaps later?” Alek offers.

Bastila makes a strange face at Alek and she hesitates. “Perhaps Padawan Alek. Another time.”

She resumes her hurried walk and Revan immediately turns to Alek.

“Who was that? I’ve never seen them around the enclave.”

Alek huffs and playfully shoves Revan forward to keep them walking.

“Padawan Bastila. She’s only sixteen but my master believes her trials will be very soon. She’s a prodigy in the making, her skills are unlike any other. My master says that she was transferred here when she was only twelve, something about her battle meditation ability.”

“Battle meditation?” Revan asks curiously, the term unfamiliar to them.

“Not my alley, Revan.” Alek answers, his bluntness making Revan smile.

When they arrive at Revan’s quarters Alek bids them farewell but not before Revan surges forward to quickly lay a kiss on his cheek.

Opening the door to their room Revan squeaks out in surprise when they find Kreia standing in the living area of their quarters.

“Master! What are you doing here? I would have come sooner if I knew you’d be-”

“You’ve met her.” Kreia says interrupting Revan’s chatter.

“Bastila?” Revan says in annoyance. Kreia in their quarters is not new but never unprompted as such. They want to ask how Kreia got in and for what purpose did she want to immediately speak to Revan about Bastila. How did Kreia know Revan would meet Bastila today, anyway? Revan does not outrule that Kreia might have had a vision but still the way she has decided to approach such a thing is no less creepy. _She’s such a strange woman._

Kreia nods and pulls out a chair for Revan to sit in.

“You have questions about her. Why the council is keeping her. Why she is here.”

Revan plops down lazily, putting a foot on the chair to begin undoing the straps on their boots.

“Battle meditation, just like Alek said. Yeah?” Their sense of properness long since dwindling in front of Kreia. She has long since stopped caring as well. Kreia is no Jedi Master just as she is no Jedi either. Revan does not bring this up to her, she is their teacher and no more. There are no titles to be had here between them. They are both using each other for their own gain, Revan still unsure of Kreia’s motives.

“A myth.” Kreia begins, making a face when Revan flings a boot across the room to the foot of their unmade bed. “Incredibly hard to develop, hardly practiced by others. Battle meditation is the ability to turn the tide of a war, instill courage into one’s forces. But to also take away the will to fight in one’s enemies. An incredibly intrusive and manipulative technique for a Jedi to learn one would think is that not so?”

Revan pauses at one of the buckles of their boots and simply stares. “Like a Jedi mind trick?”

“A rudimentary simplification of what the force power is. Yes, Revan. To use it for war though? To influence your enemies to yield and to be slaughtered? Does that not sound strange to you?”

“Of course, from a Jedi’s point of view. You ask if I think it’s wrong that the council would be teaching one of their own such a thing. I don’t know how I feel about it. There is an impending war upcoming is it not necessary?”

Kreia tips her head in acknowledgement. “A good observation. The council is against this war however, so why prepare an army you will not take to battle? I advise you to think on this. I take my leave.”

Revan opens their mouth to stop Kreia but hesitates. As they watch Kreia’s form exit their room, Revan only collapses further into their chair. Throwing the other boot to the side of its partner by the bed.

-

Anakin’s head is in Obi-Wan’s lap as the man taps away at a datapad in his hands.

“Bastila Shan was an excellent Jedi. She was never brought through her full trials during the war and was only a Padawan during her whole excursion with Revan when they saved the Republic. She was at Revan’s side during the defeat of the Sith Lord Malak.” Obi-Wan explains to Anakin.

“Malak…” Anakin echoes Obi-Wan’s words. “Malak sounds a lot like Alek.”

Obi-Wan sets his datapad down to run his fingers through Anakin’s hair.

“Well of course, Alek became Darth Malak when Revan become Darth Revan. History cites that Malak and Revan were close friends before becoming Sith Lords, their relationship was never fully public according to the journal.”

Staring up at Obi-Wan, Anakin scrunches his nose in distaste. “That sounds like something important for me to know, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s nervous laughter is something that Anakin isn’t used to and he wishes he got to see the more carefree side of Obi-Wan more often.

“Well, I didn’t think it was very relevant at the time…”

“It sounds very relevant to me. You think their attachments is what made them turn to the darkside?” Anakin asks, hands resting on his chest contently as Obi-Wan plays with his hair.

“I can’t say. I’m more concerned on how Revan was pulled back to the light.”

“We won’t know until we know how Revan fell.” Anakin points out. “If it was their attachment to Alek...how much do you think is right about the code warning against...people like us?”

“Get some rest, Anakin. You aren’t Revan and I’ve never feared your emotions. You’re as human as anyone else.”

Anakin is far from tired. These thoughts will plague him as they do any other night, he’s restless and wishes he could storm the council and demand answers to their secrecy. Revan’s life and what’s happening now, it feels all too similar.

When Obi-Wan leans down to kiss him, he sighs and allows just this once for his thoughts to calm.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update! i'm very busy with my artwork and haven't had much energy to write. unbeta'd as usual so excuse any mistakes.

Accosted by the ghost of a three thousand year old Jedi was not how Obi-Wan envisioned himself this morning. He politely sets down the cup of yogurt he had grabbed from the refectory to direct his attention to Arren.

Cheerily and with a bright smile that Obi-Wan thinks it’s much too early for, Arren asks him to continue his meal while she rattles off the many discrepancies that her time period and his seem to have. It’s surprising Coruscant hasn’t changed one bit aside from the amount of buildings and people that clutter the surface.

“It was gorgeous really, the undercity was still a terrible, terrible place to be but there was some real charm to it. I remember Kreia used to drag me with her all the time. She wanted to observe the crime down there, I always thought she was strange. She always had a lesson to go along with her observations too, it was ironic. We were both about the same age when we graduated but she was always being more of a teacher to me than a friend.” Arren recalls her memories with Kreia sweetly, as if she truly misses the horrible woman Obi-Wan had seen in his visions. He can’t help but wonder if there was something deep inside the icy exterior of Kreia that made her worth anyone’s time but he dismisses his musings.

“You wanted Kreia to teach Revan didn’t you?” 

Arren’s fond look turns into a frown when she looks at Obi-Wan. “Kreia was always jealous of Revan and I. At first I thought it was because she desired a Padawan for herself, but she never chose one through all the years I trained Revan. I didn’t realize it until it was too late but she had her sights set on Revan for decades. I was happy when Kreia continued Revan’s training. However, I am…” Arren searches for the word. “... _ conflicted _ on my true opinion of Revan’s outcome due to it. Be it me or Kreia who trained Revan till their end I highly doubt it would have made a difference. My only regret is I prioritized Revan’s training over my own daughter’s. She was very strong in the force. I never...I never truly found out what happened to her. For all that I’ve been able to see outside the small bubble of the journal’s reach is that I just know she traveled with Revan’s friend, Meetra Surik for a short time.” Sadness and regret seeps from Arren’s words and Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to answer with. All those years to think and Arren is troubled still by the past. It gives Obi-Wan fear and curiosity for just how much the Jedi are hiding about the days of the old Republic.

“Oh! Listen to me go on and on, that time is passed now of course. My daughter and I are both long dead. That’s what the Jedi say right? Do not dwell on the past or the dead?” Arren quickly changes the subject. “What about you young Kenobi? How is your little one doing?” 

Still a stranger to the feeling of being a future parent, Obi-Wan ducks his head shyly.

“Its--They’re fine. It’s too early for anything new. I mean, news. I’m very inexperienced with all this.” He confesses. “The healers have been very kind to me to which I’m incredibly thankful for.”

Letting out a loud laugh that reminds Obi-Wan of Anakin’s obnoxious shouting, Arren covers her grinning face.

“I guess you do have it a little harder. Children were a lot more common back then and there were a lot more resources available if you looked deep enough. I wasn’t even on the temple when I carried and gave birth to Brianna fortunately.”

“How did you manage to be away from the temple for so long?” Obi-Wan asks as he finishes the last bite of his meal, getting up to do away with the dishes.

“I left for Eshan with approval from the council prior. Many Jedi were allowed extended on planets to report for any force sensitive children or to study the culture and inhabitants. I accepted the offer to stay at Eshan but instead I stayed with Brianna’s father, Yusanis, until Brianna was born. The only catch unfortunately was that Yusanis had a wife and several other daughters as well, so I was actually reporting back to the council with truths about my whereabouts and findings.”

Obi-Wan sighs as he dries off his hands and takes a seat across from Arren.

“That sounds wonderful but I’m afraid there is no war or excuse for me to be allowed such a long leave from the temple. Even if someone like Satine would gladly accept the chance to hide me from the council, it simply would be too much trouble.”

“A shame.” Arren shrugs. “You seem to have a plan though, Brianna had no contact with me at all after she was born. I left immediately to dispel any suspicion the council might have. Your circumstance is definitely left with more breathing room. I’m assuming you’ll keep me in your possession to at least see the baby when they are born?” Arren asks hopefully, referencing the journal.

Not that he would like such an ancient artifact being risked in such a vulnerable place as his bedroom, Obi-Wan smiles and answers of course. Before he forgets, Obi-Wan asks one last question of Arren.

“It’s about Alek. What was his role as Malak?”

Arren leans back on the couch, arm across the back and legs folded. “Nothing.” She says firmly. “I know nothing of Revan and Malak’s time as Sith. I only know that before their leave of the Jedi order that they held ill intentions and feelings towards the council, which were rightfully placed.” Her eyes are steely and focused and she eyes the journal on the table. “Will you read me Revan’s knighting passage? It might answer more of your questions.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan answers and the thumbs ahead past Revan’s experiences with Kreia till he reaches what he assumes is the right date.

_ I have been informed by Kreia that my knighting ceremony will take place tomorrow. Her trials were not difficult, in fact, there were no trials to overcome. I was sat down and we only talked. At the end of the meeting she told me to report to the council room with expectations that my braid will no longer serve as an itch on my neck. _

“No trials?” Obi-Wan asks in confusion.

“None were needed.” Arren answers with confidence. “Revan was an exceptional knight by the time I was exiled. Kreia was no stranger to that knowledge. She only kept Revan longer than was needed to teach them what they desperately needed to know about the Order, its teachings, and the workings of the force. Consider it extra credit knowledge in a way, although in this case it was the lies the Jedi were keeping instead of their truths.”

_ I feel nothing. This ceremony is nothing to me. The only elation I feel is that I will be free of Kreia’s lectures and judgements. I have only one goal left in regards to my service as a Jedi. _

_ The council has been hiding many things, from themselves and from others. Their reluctance to disclose what is happening with the impending war is reason for my suspicion. Arren’s exile, Kreia’s self-imposed alienation, Padawan Bastila’s hidden training, these are all things that I believe tie in with the council and Order’s unrest. _

_ I place my trust in only few people these days. Kreia, Alek, and the recently knighted Meetra Surik. We have not talked much since we were children but I have repaired my ties with her as of late. She is an exceptional fighter and her personality is warm and inviting. The force is empty and dead around her, yet her essence draws me in and I feel as if she is something the council is hiding as well. (I have seen her discussing through a holocomm in secret with Master Kavar who resides on Coruscant. It is funny to think as if she is harboring a crush on her would-have-been master. Alek had reprimanded me later after I had voiced my musings. He thinks it’s rude to think such silly ideas about our friends. I must tell Surik this later, I think she will have a good laugh. _

Obi-Wan’s face twists with distaste at Revan’s statements about Kavar.

“Did other Padawans gossip such freely about such bold topics?”

Arren lets out another one of her loud laughs and has to stop herself from dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Master Kavar was always an outlier, Kenobi. I think even you would have indulged in these rumors were you a padawan or a knight. Kavar never chose a padawan, I think that man knew it best to avoid trouble before it could begin. He only ever discussed possibly training Surik because, as Revan said, she held immense powers just like Bastila. The council feared Surik more than they nurtured her. Bastila and Surik were always at odds. An accepted oddity and the rejected one. I think it was for the best Kavar did not train Surik. His influence from the council would have put the two in an awkward position.”

Kavar forgotten, Obi-Wan only dwells in confusion as to why the council would be so biased. It’s of no surprise of course, that even for someone like Anakin the council always had their reservations but it fuels Obi-Wan with anger that decisions would be made so basely. 

_ Alek does not understand my passiveness with my knighting. He understands the war and the order but he does not understand how wrong the code is. He is learning, slowly and surely. I have done my best to pass along Kreia’s teachings to him with the exception of my own opinions seeping through.  _

Obi-Wan frowns as he stares at the words on the page as they blur out of focus. He blinks and runs a hand down the page to find his place as the words become clear once more. Revan had secretly been influencing Alek’s ideas of the order as well. It’s only natural that two close friends in proximity and attachment would begin to share similar outlooks. He is no stranger to Anakin’s thoughts and the man’s odd ways of thinking.

_ With time...the order shall see.... _

The ink on the paper is hard to make out once more and Obi-Wan can feel the signs of a headache coming on. He squints to try to interpret the next few words but his body tips forward and without alarm he slams forward into the soft texture of sheets and clean linen.

-

He landed on a bed he realizes when he rights himself, and when he looks around Arren is nowhere to be found along with the journal. He is not in his own quarters anymore either.

Turning around he sees Revan, sitting at their desk, journal open wide. They ignore the book however, and continue to fiddle with what is in their hands. It appears to be a long string of some sort, dark and giving off almost a purple tint, when Obi-Wan rises to get a better look he realizes it’s Revan’s Padawan braid.

Their fingers follow a fixed pattern as they entwine the braid with several small blue beads that are scattered across the desk in front of them.

Obi-Wan later realizes the beads are the same that Arren wore in her hair.

The door opens and Alek walks in. His hair is in it’s usual disarray and his Padawan braid falls ever so surely across his shoulder. 

“You look...different.” He assesses Revan at the desk. 

Revan shrugs and removes a bead from their mouth they were holding to tie it into the braid. “It’s only an accessory.”

Alek gives Revan a troubled look and moves to stand at the desk, hip resting against the side.

“We spend our entire lives dedicating ourselves to this life and you consider that,” he nods his head towards Revan’s braid, “only an accessory?”

Obi-Wan would expect Revan to get angry, or grit their teeth and become frustrated but ever so calmly Revan finishes the last tie on the braid and sets it down gently. They set their hands on their knees as they shift to face Alek.

“I was absolved of this responsibility when Arren left. I will only have one true teacher. Kreia and the others...They will only ever be my means to an end. I will respect them as what they were but this part of my life is over.”

Alek’s frown becomes more prominent and he crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m to be knighted soon you know.”

Placing a comforting hand on Alek’s bicep, Revan smiles at the younger man.

“They will not separate us. The council knows there is danger in this. That is why they sent us here to Dantooine together. Why they allowed us to remain friends. My knighting was purely ceremonial, as will yours be. We were already knights long ago, Alek.”

Discomfort still wracks Alek’s posture. “And when it comes time for the war?” He asks in an even tone.

Obi-Wan’s mixed feeling of fear settles when he hears Revan’s next uttered words. Worry for the others and worry for Anakin fills his system and although he understands this is all just a dream the feelings are ever so real.

“If the order will not listen we will make them hear us.”

-

When Obi-Wan comes to, he lifts his head to see Arren staring right at him.

“That was new.” She remarks at him and he squints his eyes in questioning.

“You saw what I just saw?” Obi-Wan inquiries with confusion.

“It appears so. I’ve never been able to view Revan’s memories, it seems we just had some sort of tranced daydream.”

“What did Revan mean by making the council listen?” Obi-Wan demands.

Arren’s lax face shifts into a pained one and she rights her body so that she is sitting normally.

“I have had thousands of years to think about my actions as a teacher and a mother, young Kenobi. Entire lifetimes to wonder if I had changed even one thing would it have made a difference in what happened to Revan. And through it all, through each scenario I made up, knowing that in each one I would be abandoning my own daughter in favor of seeing Revan through--You must know Obi-Wan. I would have chosen Revan each time. The choices they made against the council were necessary. There was no other way to get the Jedi to listen, to open their eyes. I will always regret Brianna, I will always feel disgust with myself for never being able to raise her. But I will never regret Revan. This must be kept constant in your mind as you read on. As you see through Revan’s eyes and as you see past their actions to their impact.”

Obi-Wan looks at Arren in wonder and when he opens his mouth to tell Arren that doesn’t answer anything she is gone as quickly as she had appeared.  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd  
> stuff gets a lot more complicated in the next 3 chapters morality wise re: revan's decisions and how they act. feel free to ask for clarification on anything cause i know my writing can be lacking at times @_@

Revan and Alek are much older when Anakin sees them once more in his dreams. They're closer to Obi-Wan’s age now, Revan having turned thirty recently according to the journal's text. Anakin thinks it odd that they be made a Jedi Knight so late in their life but as it would seem it appears that to be the commonplace amongst the order of this time. He laments the absence of Obi-Wan in his dreams of late, it would be much easier to get his thoughts and feelings across were the man by his side to witness these events of Revan's life. He knows Obi-Wan never faced a normal knighting and while he had been reserved and unwilling to talk about his past, the tale had been spilled eventually. His doubts as a teacher, as a Jedi, and most importantly a friend are all things he’s confessed to Anakin in the dead of night when neither of them can sleep, trapped on some barren planet with only the distant hum of clone troopers patrolling their camp.

Once Anakin blamed him, but once Anakin blamed everyone, and truly in the end it was no one’s fault but the order’s cruel design.

Revan and Alek stand next to each other in the Dantooine council room. It’s much smaller and less grand than the Coruscant temple that Anakin is familiar with but there is an air of earthiness that makes it almost more comforting. At the head of the council sits a small brown-skinned alien that for a second Anakin mistakes for Yoda. 

Revan's hands are clasped in front of them while Alek’s remain firmly clasped behind himself. There's a stark difference in their posture, Revan wrought with tension and anticipation, Alek with authority and poise.

“Another outpost was lost this week.” Alek, ever so calmly continues his listings of the tragedies that have struck the Republic of late. “If we don’t act now more Outer Rim planets will be exposed to attack and corruption, my father-”

Vrook is the first to speak up, Anakin recognizes the balding old man from Arren’s trial. “You were forbidden from further correspondence with your father years ago. You’ve been defying the council’s orders for this long?” There’s disbelief in his voice which seems to contradict his serene appearance. 

Alek only stares him down as he continues.

“My father has been informing me where you all have refused me. Hiding these atrocities is impossible. Thousands of lives are being lost each day because of the council’s unwillingness to provide proper support.”

Revan nods in approval. “The Mandalorians will not back down. They don’t value anything in the lives they slaughter. What don’t you understand?”

“The Jedi are not an army.” Vrook says angrily.

“Then why do we learn how to fight?” Revan answers with the same anger. “What are you all planning with Padawan Shan?” They demand and Alek breaks his composure to at least whisper Revan’s name with warning.

The other council members shift with discomfort and Vrook grips the handles of his seat. “You speak out of your place, Knight Revan.” 

The alien reminiscent of Yoda interrupts him. “We are not here to accuse or hide things from you Knight Revan. Master Vrook, Revan and Alek’s anger is not misplaced.”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything when you understand the dangers?” Revan says with exasperation.

“Jumping headfirst into this war is too great a risk for the order. The Republic will have to hold it’s own.”

“That’s absurd!” Alek exclaims.

Suddenly Zez-Kai Ell stands. “We will not speak anymore on this matter. The both of you are dismissed. There will be no support from Jedi forces in the conflict of the Mandalorians.”

Revan’s jaw drops in shock and Anakin feels a deep sense of sympathy for them. The past years have been nothing but terror for the Outer Rim planets. Troops and troops of Mandalorians have instigated a war of plundering for no other reason than to prove their superiority. The attacks have only been getting worse, with forces slowly encroaching to the Inner Rim planet, Revan isn’t wrong in wanting to stop it before the problem escalates.

“Of course you aren’t going to take no for an answer.” Anakin mutters to himself under his breath as he follows Revan and Alek out of the council room.

“Of course not!” Revan answers stubbornly. Anakin startles with surprise, not expecting Revan to be aware of him. “That was only a courtesy visit, the council doesn’t know anything of what we have planned.”

Anakin looks to Alek for an explanation but the black haired man doesn’t notice him and continues his fast stride alongside Revan.

“There’s not much else for you to do is there? Two Jedi against an entire army? It’s suicidal.” He goes back to conversing with Revan. He crosses his arms as they come to a standstill before a door that Anakin doesn’t recognize.

“That’s what you think.” Revan says smugly and Anakin has the desperate urge to punch them in the face. They’re too much like him that it’s almost unbearable. “Alek, if you will.”

Revan steps aside to make room for Alek who looks directly at Anakin as he places a hand on the door handle.

“After you, Master Skywalker.” Alek says motioning for Anakin to go through the door.

It’s that damned title again and Anakin’s jaw clenches as he reluctantly enters. Not Knight Skywalker, or just Skywalker, not even a simple ‘Anakin’. He doesn’t understand why he’s got the rank of Master in these dreams but Revan seems miles away when he asks them to explain, as if they’re ignoring his every question and only choosing to answer the ones they see fit.

Alek follows behind him silently. The pathway is dimly lit and the walls aren’t made of the same stone that the temple is made of. Anakin has never seen this passageway before and he realizes it’s because it simply doesn’t exist in the temple. He turns to ask Alek where he’s taking him but Alek doesn’t stop, only forcefully pushes Anakin to keep walking. His strength takes Anakin off guard but again, this is only a dream, so he brushes it off.

They come to another doorway, a large trapezoid shaped slab of stone with etchings that Anakin can’t recognize. The area is even darker now and when Alek waves a hand to open the way he can barely make out the faces of the other people who stand in the opposing room.

Anakin takes cautious steps forward to join the other members that he soon recognizes as several padawans from the temple. Alek sidesteps him to go to the front of the room and turns to face them all.

“Do not heed the words of the Jedi Council. The Republic will fall if we do not act now. Already the Mandalorians have taken three systems along the Rim. They will only grow more powerful with time. Come stand with me. We will use our might to help the Republic in its time of need. Join Revan and I. Together, we will battle this menace.”

A meeting of some sort it seems, Anakin’s arms are still crossed defensively and he turns to look at the padawans that surround him. He knows few of them by name, only vaguely recognizing their faces from the halls of the temple. At the end of the line he can see Meetra Surik, Revan’s other close friend. She watches the proceedings with a neutral expression on her face. Noticing her lack of braid it seems she is the only Jedi Knight present to this meeting.

It takes him a second to realize who it is that stands beside him as she is much older than when he had first met her, but it is the young Bastila Shan who Revan and Alek had run into years before. She’s still a padawan but taller and there’s lines etched into her face that show the weight of what the recent years have done to her. Her expression is vastly opposite of Surik’s. She looks on at Alek with a scowl upon her face and deep mistrust. 

“I cannot believe the others are buying into this garbage.” She whispers to herself and Anakin takes the chance where he sees it.

“You agree with the council’s decision?” He asks curiously.

Bastila doesn’t even blink at Anakin’s sudden intrusion. “The council is smarter than all of this. There is a reason for their reluctance, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re assuming the council has a plan? How do you know they’re not just biding their time?” Anakin counters.

Bastila shoots him a glare. “Who are you?”

Alek cuts them off.

“The Council seems content to watch, to debate, while entire systems fall to the Mandalorians. If we don’t act now, there may be no Republic army to assist in the future.”

His words seem to be doing the trick, because two padawans join his side, muttering amongst themselves their own dissatisfaction with the council.

“Those fools.” Bastila hisses. “They’re going to cause nothing but trouble for the council and the rest of the order. We’re going to look like a bunch of heathens riding into a war we know nothing about.”

“You want more people to die? How much do you know of what’s been going on outside the temple?” Bastila’s trust in the council unsettles Anakin. Her youth is no excuse for ignorance and he can’t believe she’s considered a prodigy like Revan. Even they have better opinions than what he’s hearing right now.

“I know enough to make my own choices. And how dare you make such a base accusation of me!” She spits with her voice still low as to not disturb Alek’s speech. 

“Why are you here then?” Anakin asks his voice calm, not wanting to upset Bastila anymore than he already has.

That question seems to catch her off guard and she hesitates trying to come up with a good explanation.

“I’m not spying if that’s what you’re thinking. It would be useless to rattle off to the council what Knight Revan wishes to do anyway. They know of Revan’s rebellious behavior and it the least of their concerns. I was just curious like the rest of the padawans. These are my friends giving their lives up for some silly resistance movement. It’s only right I see them off.”

It’s almost sad the way Bastila admits she won’t try to stop them. She’s accepted that this is their choice and Anakin wonders why Bastila believes in the council so much.

As the last padawan joins Alek’s side, Alek turns to Surik.

“You came to watch the proceedings. We discussed previously if you wanted to join, have you finally decided on an answer?”

Surik stands a little straighter, hands clasped behind her back and she smiles.

“The council is taking too long. Not joining would be a terrible mistake.”

Alek grins back and takes Surik’s hand when she steps forward to join him with the other padawans.

He’s much friendlier to Surik than the rest of the Jedi and the familiarity he shares with her is like that he has with Revan. His strong demeanor only an act to assert his authority and rank over the rest of his peers. The strikings of a true leader. He wonders how Revan managed to keep the man as their sidekick rather than equal.

Surik announces her loyalty loud and clear and when Anakin turns to see what Bastila has to say about it the woman has disappeared. 

-

“What’s your opinion of the council’s inaction?” Anakin asks from his spot on the ground, wrench in hand as he tinkers absently with what Obi-Wan can only guess are the latest spare parts the clones have gifted him. “Do you think they should have done something?”

Another study session as they’ve so dubbed it and while Anakin’s mood drops more with each one, he’s taken a peculiar interest in the hard facts of the past.

“Truly,” Obi-Wan says as he thumbs through the journal to jot something down on the notes in his lap. “I don’t see why the council would refuse to aid the Republic in the first place. Alek and even the most general of history books state the proof. The Mandalorians were slaughtering thousands.”

A particularly hard jab of the wrench to the metal in Anakin’s hands and a small spark flies but burns out before it touches the floor. “Why didn’t they do anything? We were so quick to join the Clone Wars, even with…” Anakin pauses and he stares hard at the ground. The Chancellor is sore subject and he avoids saying his name at all cost. “We were manipulated into the war but the council took up the offer so easily. Why was it so different back then when the threat could be considered even more dangerous than the Sith?”

Obi-Wan sighs. “I don’t know, Anakin. The Jedi have always been adamant about staying out of wars and it does seem odd that the old order would be training thousands for war combat without taking immediate action. Perhaps they were waiting something out. For something bigger than the Mandalorians.”

“They’d been killing thousands for years!” Anakin’s frustration evident as he turns a screw harder. “How many more lives were they planning to lose before it finally got to be too much? Or were they hoping the Mandalorians would just give up? They didn’t even bother giving Revan an explanation.”

“You’re not wrong, Anakin. Revan had a right to be frustrated with the order’s secrecy. Be it a lesson in patience or not it was wrong of them to dismiss the safety of others for the sake of their own and of their image.” 

The metal in Anakin’s hands finally snaps under the pressure and the noise startles Obi-Wan as he looks up from his notes to see pieces of scrap scattered across the floor in front of Anakin. 

Anakin seems shocked at himself as well because he stares at the mess for a good few seconds before realizing what he’s done. “Sorry--I’ll clean it up.” Anakin mutters as he scoops what he can in his palms.

“Anakin, it’s fine.” Obi-Wan reasons and he puts the journal aside and stands up to retrieve a dustpan. “Go sit down the bed, relax. I’ll take care of this.”

Rising to stop him, Anakin grabs Obi-Wan’s wrist gently. “It’s my fault-”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan reiterates and he takes the hint to let Obi-Wan do as he wants. 

Giving in, he lets go of Obi-Wan and throws himself down onto the neatly made bed. He doesn’t lie down and lets his legs hang over the edge.

“Your anger is not misplaced. The council has done things in both histories that have lead many Jedi in the order to take things into their own hands.” Obi-Wan absently says as he sweeps up the broken parts. “The order is responsible for their mistakes even if they often don’t wish to admit them. You are correct that they tend to blame their own students for misdemeanors and crimes.”

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin starts.

“No need.” Obi-Wan interrupts and he finishes disposing of the mess and wipes his hands. “There are many addendums the council needs to institute in our code to fix such errors.” He walks over to where Anakin is seated, pressing a kiss to his forehead before kneeling down in front of him. “But you don’t need me to list off all the things you already know, do you?”

When Obi-Wan starts undoing the belt around Anakin’s waist and moving lower to undo the catch on his trousers, Anakin raises a hand to stop him.

“Obi-Wan you don’t have to--” He doesn’t want Obi-Wan to feel like this is something he needs to do to calm him down. To stop the tirade of emotions Anakin feels all the time and the anger that pollutes his mind.

“Not everything is about you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan feigns offense. “Let me do this for both of us.”

Anakin doesn’t have an answer to that and lets his hand fall to the top of Obi-Wan’s head when he feels the first touch of warmth on his slowly hardening length.

He slowly realizes this is definitely less about him the more Obi-Wan gets into it. Obi-Wan’s eagerly running his tongue along Anakin’s cock and openly moaning his pleasure when he sinks down as far as he can go, using his hand to apply pressure where his mouth can’t reach.

Anakin’s grip on Obi-Wan’s hair only tightens when he sucks harder and Anakin gasps his name when he looks down to see Obi-Wan’s wide eyes looking back at him, mouth stuffed full.

Resisting the urge to thrust when Obi-Wan lets out a particularly soft whimper, he notices Obi-Wan has a hand between his thighs, steadily rubbing in circles. Knowing that Obi-Wan is getting off on this as much as he is pulls Anakin over the edge and he holds Obi-Wan’s head in place as he comes.

Wiping his mouth, Obi-Wan gives Anakin’s cock a quick kiss that causes Anakin’s cheeks to flush and he bats Obi-Wan away from his oversensitive dick. 

“You’re too much.” Anakin says as he catches his breath.

“I’m just enough.” Obi-Wan replies as he takes a seat on Anakin’s lap to meld their lips together in a sweet kiss, stealing away Anakin’s air once more. 

Anakin’s hands instinctively rise to Obi-Wan’s chest and he massages his hands over Obi-Wan’s stomach to his thighs casually. He enjoys being close to Obi-Wan and the feeling of  _ safety _ and  _ contentment _ that pulses through their bond fills Anakin’s head with a hazy happy feeling. When Obi-Wan sighs into Anakin’s neck as he lies his head down on his shoulder Anakin lifts a hand to pat his ruffled hair down neatly.

“Feel better?” Obi-Wan says against his skin.

Anakin laughs and places a kiss on the top of Obi-Wan’s head. “I should be asking you that. The dreams are the last thing I’m worried about. How are you doing? Depa’s been stressing you out along with the rest of the council and you haven’t exactly elaborated more on this ghost of yours that seems to be visiting.”

As if the child wasn’t enough stress on Obi-Wan, Anakin is right.

“Depa and the council are much too busy arguing among themselves with petty disagreements. I’m hardly required at any of the meetings and anything I would have to say seems awfully redundant.” The council of their time is just as elusive as the council of Revan’s time and Obi-Wan doesn’t want to imply that another war could happen so quickly like that of the Mandalorian’s but it’s a heavy shadow over his mind. “Arren comes and goes as she pleases. She’s much like Qui-Gon in a way, except she’s not. She’s very sad. It’s odd, to have given your soul to the Force and become an essence of it in a way but still live with your thoughts of regret and sorrow. She never got to see her daughter even after her death. You would think the Force would have given her that at the very least.” 

“According to the order we’re taught to let go of our attachments and feelings. She didn’t die a Jedi though, did she?”

“No.” Obi-Wan’s voice muffled in Anakin’s tunic. “She didn’t.” 

There are little other words exchanged between them and Anakin notices Obi-Wan dozing off as his weight becomes heavier in his arms.

Maneuvering the two of them down onto the bed Anakin closes his eyes.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to pace certain important events is getting away from me, the fic will probably end up being a lot longer than i originally planned.  
> as always unbeta'd, thanks for all your comments/kudos so far!

He's laying on something soft and itchy, poking in places where his skin is exposed. There's a sound of children laughing in the distance and the hum of sabers clashing. His mind is empty and numb, but not with pain or the same buzz that comes with most of his dreams.

“Master Skywalker!” He hears one of the children shout in the distant. A young girl whom he can't identify by voice alone. 

Groaning, Anakin rolls over, opening his eyes to see the source of the itchiness. He's lying on the grass and he squints at the rush of light when he opens his eyes to see the sun blaring overhead in the open courtyard.

There are children all around him of various ages. Young padawans no older than twelve and older padawans no younger than twenty-five. Intermixed are several Jedi he recognizes from the Jedi enclave in Dantooine as well as Coruscant. Their invasive eyes are all on him and he shifts uncomfortably.

“You all have no manners, Master Skywalker is still resting.” Revan, separate from the crowd approaches.

“He's been sleeping all day!” One of the children complain.

“Master Skywalker is the laziest Jedi I've ever met.” Another comments and Anakin frowns in their general direction.

“Shoo, Master Skywalker is none of your concern. I've an important discussion to have with him."

The children disperse and several chime in with muttered apologies for disrupting Revan’s business.

In the distance Anakin can see Alek calmly watching over several of the older padawans sparring, giving instructions and directions as needed. Meetra Surik is beside him, whispering her own opinion on the student’s forms.

A hand obstructs his view and he reluctantly takes it, Revan pulling him up from the ground.

“Telos. That’s where we are.” Revan answers Anakin’s unasked question. A Separatist planet in Anakin’s time.

“The Jedi who fail their training come here to work. The ones the Order find no longer fit for their perfect system.” The surface of the planet shows. There are fields of crops decorating the outside of training ring and plains seem to go on for forever. It’s a perfect simulation of Dantooine and it must be useful for helping the rogue Jedi who have decided to aid Revan adjust.

“The Agricorps are voluntary.” Anakin points out when the wording of Revan’s statement hits him. Revan paints the Jedi in a negative light consistently and makes the order out to be something terrible. They’re not entirely wrong but for Anakin they only seem to be doing their best. 

“What do you do with a child who has not known a home other than the temple? The younglings may be trained in basic combat in preparation to become padawans and the padawans may be nothing but the bare minimum of a full grown Jedi but they are not ready for a world outside of the temple like you may think.”

Revan does not allow Anakin a response.

“It’s of no matter to you. You were raised with a Mother, a loving family regardless of your situation. You would have done fine. You were too old for the order.”

“I was too young to become a Padawan.” Anakin admits. “Too old for a youngling, too young to be a padawan. Too undisciplined for a Jedi.”

“Bastila joined the order when she was around your age. She had a caring father and mother and yet…” Revan shakes their head. “That doesn’t matter. The Jedi here have nowhere else to go. They’re nothing more than slaves to the order just as you were and are.”

Revan’s ease with Anakin’s past doesn’t sit well with him.

“That’s something to discuss at another time.” Revan dismisses his rising anger. “The war grows closer and while our numbers grow slowly they’re no match for an entire army of thousands.”

Crossing his arms, Anakin looks down at Revan confidently.

“You’d be surprised what a Jedi can do. I fought in a few wars myself and a couple hundred of Separatist war droids were no match for someone who knew their way around a lightsaber.”

Revan only gives Anakin a disbelieving look and directs their attention to watching Alek’s instructions from afar.

“We must recruit more Jedi from the temple. But how? There is little else to convince more of the loyal Jedi to join our cause. Those like Bastila will be immovable. They’re blinded by false promises of safety and righteousness.”

“Listen.” Anakin says sternly, grabbing Revan’s arm and snapping them out of their daze. “You’re asking for my help in this? I want to know why you’ve got padawans barely old enough to be out on the field by themselves mixed in with your group.”

Roughly shaking out of Anakin’s grip, Revan meets Anakin’s eyes with an equal fury.

“You of all people understand the workings of wars, Skywalker. You do what needs to be done.”

“But are you really any better than the council then? Taking children to raise them for war?” Anakin’s voice rising.

“You aren’t even from here what could you possibly know about how anything worked in this time-”

“Enough.” Revan and Anakin’s discussion is cut short by Alek. The both of them not realizing he had been standing there for a while now.

“We are not here to argue. If Master Skywalker has no assistance to offer us then he will simply have to join the rest of the group waiting on orders. Is that not the best course of action, Master Revan?”

“That’s fine.” Revan answers curtly. 

“As you say, Master.”

And Alek is leaving as fast as he came.

“I thought Alek was your lover.” Anakin says. His ego a little bruised to be caught arguing with someone so annoying as Revan.

“He is.” Revan gives Anakin a questioning look. “He has a point though. You should wait with the other Jedi until more orders are given.”

Anakin ignores them.

“Why does he call you Master? You were both knighted at the same time. You’re still a knight if I remember right too.”

“I am still a knight by order definition.” Revan rolls their eyes. “It’s out of respect, everyone here calls me Master. I’ve been promoted to honorary Master since I happen to be leading the war effort. On the battlefield I won’t have time to think of Alek as my lover. These titles will be better when harsher decisions must be made.”

“But that’s...That’s not right.” Anakin weakly says in protest.

“That’s rich coming from you. You’re in a partnership with Kenobi. Or have times changed so much within the order things like that are more accepted?”

Anakin almost chokes and he shakes his head furiously.

“No, and it’s not like that at all. We didn’t-- We didn’t get together until much after my knighting I can assure you that. I stopped calling him Master years ago. It makes both of us uncomfortable. Those titles aren’t anything to us anymore.”

“You’re an odd one Skywalker.”

Alek and Revan’s relationship still settles uneasily in Anakin’s stomach.

“No more odder than you.” He offers before turning away to join the other Jedi. 

-

Anakin slumps against his bedside from the floor, twiddling away at the remnants of the broken machine he had ruined a few days before. Revan’s judgements eat away at him when they shouldn’t. Revan is long dead. That Revan isn’t real, and whatever happens in his dreams is probably some sick part of his brain that’s accusing himself of wrongdoings he hasn’t committed.

Still, even that seems foolish and he continues to wonder if there is really a higher power or maybe the Force itself manipulating these dreams.

Frustrated, Anakin sets down the parts before a repeat of the last incident can happen and he grabs for the journal on his bed. Obi-Wan had been by earlier to drop off whatever notes he had including the journal advising that Anakin pick up where he had stopped. The council had asked Obi-Wan to a meeting of some sort that morning. He had little else time to elaborate besides kissing Anakin good morning and leaving almost as soon as he had arrived. Anakin brushes a hand over his cheek where Obi-Wan’s lips had been not a few hours ago and he smiles. 

Thumbing through the journal with new resolve he hopes to uncover just exactly what happened between the end of the Mandalorian War that spurred Revan’s fall, and subsequently the beginning of the Jedi Civil War.

_ I will not provide explicit detail on the missions I have led on the base fact that it would be too dangerous for a journal such as this to fall into enemy hands. Aside from that I can speak little of my plans and desires. Do I wish for a life after this war has ended? A life back into the Jedi order’s arms once they realize I was right, or a life running away from their judgements? _

Unhelpful and vague, as most of Revan’s passages are. The rest of the text seem to lessen the further the war goes on. Revan only describes having to be in constant hiding from enemy eyes. How much less luxurious life seemed to be outside the temple. Anakin lets out a small huff of laughter at those bits. While the Jedi may seem to live frugally and without possession, everyone had access to more than enough surplus of basic needs. He remembers his first mission out and how Obi-Wan had warned him that it would be different sleeping on the cold hard ground then in the safety of the temple’s quarters. Anakin of course had reminded Obi-Wan of where he had come from and that anywhere that wasn’t a barren wasteland of sand was better than whatever unfortunate planet faced them. 

Nothing of Revan’s journal catches Anakin’s eye until he reaches a passage hastily scribbled, the writing almost angry.

_ Alek had been missing and I was not there. I had not worried when we split up to recruit more allies to our cause. It was a mistake. Alek had come back, ragged and torn and shaken. He was tortured by that scientist Demagol. Subjected to electric shocks and horrendous experiments just to satisfy an old man’s curiosity of what a Jedi can truly handle. I don’t want to talk about it. Alek had returned to me alongside a Padawan by the name of Carrick. Alek and I had half begged the student to join our cause but he graciously declined the offer. He had faced judgements previously from the council. Framed for murder by his own Jedi Master of slaughtering padawans and yet still forgiving of the order. I cannot fathom how anyone could keep a pure vision of the order after an ordeal such as that. _

_ Alek’s hair is all gone. I thought he looked different without his braid but now he looks tired and worn. He looks older and more handsome in a way. He bears markings from the tortures, large blue imprints over his bald head that wrap around like tattoos in a way.  _

_ Of all things I will not forgive them for hurting Alek. That scientist, nor the order that accused Carrick of murdering his own fellow peers, least of all the council. I will lead us to victory and I will not be returning to the temple, no matter what. _

There is no word to describe Anakin’s feelings about Carrick’s situation. According to Revan, there had been a group of Jedi masters afraid that their padawans would fall to the darkside due to a vision they had all seen. In their fear, the masters murdered their own padawans. To escape the council’s judgements they had framed Zayne Carrick, the only padawan who had survived the slaughter.

Anakin too can’t imagine why Carrick would refuse Alek’s offer towards rebellion of the council, although perhaps he wanted nothing more to do with the Jedi as whole.

_ I’ve caught glimpses of the holos the Republic broadcasts. They call me the Crusader. A savior of the people. I will help them win this war. My followers have started to call me this too. It’s an inside joke, a hidden meaning just as they’ve likened to calling me their master. It also seems there is another nickname that’s been recently bestowed upon me. ‘The Revanchist’ falls from the lips of Republic soldiers and reporters. The name of my so called movement against the order and against the Mandalorians. I am unfamiliar with this kind of popularity or power. How should I carry myself in front of others? What kind of hero do the people want? _

Eyes boring into the journal’s pages, Anakin’s hands grip the edges of the paper tightly. He knows what Revan means, the feelings of a million eyes watching their every action.  _ The Hero With No Fear _ is almost as a synonymous title as the Crusader and Revanchist alike. Of course Obi-Wan held his own famous title amongst the Republic during the Clone Wars but it did not hold the promises that Anakin’s title held. The title of Hero, of savior. A name that weighed Anakin down with a responsibility larger than that of a simple Jedi Knight. 

Anakin shuts the journal rather forcefully. He drops it down on the counter by his doorway before leaving his quarters.

He wishes the things he’s read today were all lies.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright i wanna say the first half of this story is finished! but then again revan's story is sooo long and drawn out even i'm not sure how much more i have to go. (the end is already planned though!)  
> second note! some of the dialogue is taken directly from the game/eu material like the comics. this will be prevalent for the next half of the story (i'll try to spice it up so it's not copy and pasted word for word dialogue though, i'm not a big fan of that)  
> as always any questions re: canon relevancy to kotor are welcome  
> unbeta'd

Planet to planet, following Revan’s missions is tiring as it is if Anakin were awake to experience the dream. He feels the ache in legs and the small cuts across his arms from the long treks through jungles, thick with brush. His lungs heave with effort as they cross long expanses of desert. He even hates the stickiness of his face and back when they end up in more humid climates.

He knows every time when he awakens those cuts will be gone, his lungs won’t ache, and the only thing he will be left with is a raging head of emotions and the dull soreness in his body as if he had been walking for miles.

It doesn’t bother him at first, although he worries for Obi-Wan, if the other man is experiencing the same so called lag the dreams leave behind.

Cathar isn’t what Anakin would call a break, but the grasslands of the planet are a welcoming sight. Revan and the small band of followers they’ve decided to take on these mission have been on the run and in hiding more than they have been in the past. Alek accompanies Revan as they step off the ship onto the coarse grass.

_Malak, not Alek._ Anakin mentally reminds himself. He had learned of the future Sith Lord’s true reason for changing his name only a few weeks ago. The council has taken up a galaxy wide hunt for the Revanchist.

Anakin thinks Malak is a stupid excuse for a secret identity but it seems to fit and the Jedi they meet are less in number the more Revan pulls their units into the shadows, away from Republic news.

“So, anything special about Cathar? Or are we just scouting the area clean like we always do.” Anakin asks in a bored tone.

“You would think a Jedi Master as esteemed as Skywalker would show some respect.” He hears one of the Revanchist Jedi from the crowd mutter.

“Hey-- I can hear you-!”

“An example” Revan interrupts him while Malak shoves him from the back harshly as a signal to keep a move on.

“My fellow Revanchist, Ferroh, tells me his people have been scarce.” The aforementioned man gives a two finger salute when Anakin glances back to meet eyes with the burly Cathar. “They have been missing for a long time due to the Mandalorian conflicts. The Jedi Order won’t take Serroco or Jebble as examples of Mandalorian cruelty even though entire populations were wiped out as a direct result in those systems. If we show them how the Mandalorians tore apart Cathar years ago it might give us the upper hand in convincing the Order to aid us before we all become as barren as Cathar.”

“Ferroh!” Revan shouts from their spot at the front of the group. “We close?”

“Not much further, Master!” Ferroh replies. “Up ahead by the beaches, that’s where most of the refugee camps were the last I remember. I’ll warn you it has been a while.”

Ferroh isn’t lying. There’s deep craters in the earth and large construction beams poking out of the ground. Rotting wood and stone lines the edge of the beach and many of the Cathar on the beach are tired and thin.

Asking around is useless, many of the Cathar give Revan strange looks. They know nothing about the Mandalorian attacks. They had fled their homeworld and had returned when it was deemed safe enough to rebuild.

Night falls when Revan and Ferroh finally decide to give up their search. The rest of the Revanchist are gathered on the beach, waiting for new orders.

Anakin feels them before he sees them approaching. Revan must have noticed at the same time too because they pick themselves up from the boulder they were seated upon to rest their hand on their saber.

“The council.” Anakin voices out loud although it is not needed. They are very aware of who the hooded figures are in the distance slowly walking towards them.

Vrook is the first to reveal his face to them. Anakin’s sour mood only turns worse. The wrinkled old man is the reason why Arren is gone, why the council refused to aid the Republic, amongst all things he is one of Revan’s old teachers, misguided in his ways.

“Master Vrook-” Ferroh begins but Malak holds up a hand to stop him.

“Revan. You are ordered to stop your campaign effective immediately.”

Revan’s lips curl back in a scowl. “After all this destruction you still refuse aid?”

The other Jedi from the temple close in on the Revanchist. Surrounding them, trapped on the beach. They make no sudden movements, just slowly herd them closer.

“The Mandalorians are nothing _special._ This war does not warrant Jedi aid. Disperse your group Knight Revan.” Vrook pushes further.

Revan steps back away from Vrook, but startles when their foot clangs against something metal on the ground. Kneeling down to get a closer look, Revan dislodges the object from the dirt. Eyes widening when they realize what they hold in their hands.

The light strikes the metal of the discarded Mandalorian Mask. Scratches and chipped paint show its years on the surface.

There’s little time for Revan to speak before they hear a clamoring of footsteps from where the temple Jedi had come from. It sounds like a symphony of hooves hitting the ground and soon mixed in are the terrified screams of hundreds of Cathar people.

“Mandalorians!” Someone from the crowd shouts, pointing to the sky.

On the tail of the fleeing Cathar are Mandalorian warriors, descending to the ground with blasters aimed and ready.

Revan is the first to ignite their saber and soon temple and Revanchist Jedi alike are all drawing their blades to defend the Cathar.

Anakin had found it strange at first that he too could have influence on others in the dreamlike state. Depending on situations there would always be more or less that he was able to do. Now is one of those times where he’s thankful to find his saber at his side, and he dives headfirst into the combat with glee. Except...when he strikes a for-sure injuring blow to one of the Mandalorian’s with an open flank, his blade slices clean through. He meets no resistance and the Mandalorian continues their chase after the Cathar, and Anakin stumbles forward before righting himself.

“Cease!” Vrook shouts as Ferroh and the others soon realize their attacks are useless against the Mandalorians. “It’s a vision!”

The Cathar weren’t fighting the Mandalorians back, many clutched their children to their chest as they were driven deeper and deeper into the water. Shouts of anguish from the Jedi witnessing the vision begged the Mandalorians to stop their attack, these people were innocent. They weren’t heard, they couldn’t be heard. This was a vision of the past and Anakin knows what happens next and he wishes he weren’t here to bear witness.

“Stop!” A shrill vocoded voice shouts through the screams. “Cassus--wait! They’re _defeated!_ We don’t have to do this!”

Above them is a Mandalorian woman in a purple suit, wearing the same mask Revan held in their hands a few moments ago. Her hands outstretched she begs Cassus, the gold plated Mandalorian leading the attack to stand down.

“Mandalore’s right hand man.” Revan supplies to Anakin.

“The Cathar left a stain of dishonor on the Mando’ade. Today, I wash it clean in the waters of their own presumption. But if you truly feel they need a defender to stand with them -- then do so, Warrior. I salute you. Ke’serim!” Cassus’ voice is empty of sympathy and almost mocking. When he gives the order to shoot the screams heard from the Cathar are overwhelming the flashes of light from the bombs leave the Jedi no choice but to shield their eyes.

After that, there is silence.

Jedi in the ocean, water up to their wastes, cradle their heads in pain. Malak is the first to rise, making his way towards Revan who is on their knees in the sand.

Anakin is gasping for breath, pain is everything he feels. The cruel pain of an entire species being destroyed and he chokes as tears fall from his eyes.

Malak reaches Revan, a hand outstretched to ask if they’re okay and Revan only stands with the Mandalorian’s mask clutched in their hands.

“They were beaten!” They shout, their voice shrill and wet. “You didn’t have to do it! One of you knew, but you didn’t listen!”

As more Jedi recover from the shock of the vision, they all rise to listen to Revan’s words. Even Vrook stays silent, looking on in awe.

“I don’t know your name--but I take up your cause. I will not remove your mask until there is justice--” Revan reignites their saber, thrusting it up to the sky. “--until the Mandalorians have been defeated once and for all. So swears...Revan!”

A few of the Revanchist Jedi cheer, Malak only shakes his head and crosses his arms, the look upon his face is one of adoration though. Ferroh has his hands on his hips and he laughs wholeheartedly, giving a whistle to urge on the crowd.

The council stays quiet, and when Revan clips their saber back to their belt, Vrook steps forward.

“We still cannot lead the Jedi into this war.” He says firmly, and Revan’s protest dies on their lips when he continues. “But the war crimes of the Mandalorian’s are evident enough. We will sanction your intervention on behalf of the Republic.”

Malak speaks up.

“The Republic will still urge you to join, you can’t escape the cries of millions.”

Vrook grinds his teeth in frustration.

“Master Vrook.” Revan’s voice is small for once, and Anakin can’t help but remember that small child he met months ago, running around for approval from the council. “If I may be so bold, could I suggest that the Revanchist be deputized into the Republic military as a Mercy Corps? It will calm the growing protests against the Order while still allowing my people to do as they must.”

Sighing, Vrook nods.

“Your request is granted, Knight Revan. I will report back to the council with this decision. You’ll find that you no longer need to hide from us.”

“Thank you, Master.” Revan says before taking a respectful bow.

Vrook turns to leave, but hesitates in his steps.  
“Revan.” He calls back.

“Vrook.” Revan answers.

“The council had figured you may have found out about this sooner or later, or that you had corresponded with Kreia, although it seems you have been kept in the dark about certain things.”

Revan perks up at this, the mask on their face leaves little to be interpreted of their reaction.

“Kreia was exiled when it was revealed many of her teachings influenced the Revanchist Jedi to join you. While the council may be granting you permission to fight in this war, you must know that your actions will never be approved, and you must live with knowing the consequences. Where she roams, we no longer know. I found it only right that you know she is no longer with the Jedi. She was your Master after all.”

He does not wait for a response, and he motions for the others to follow him.

Once Lamar and the rest of the temple Jedi leave, Anakin walks up to Revan’s side.

“What an asshole.” He comments, and Revan laughs. He swears he hears Ferroh let out a snort as well.

“Two Masters put into Exile ‘cause of you Revan.” Malak says with a low whistle. “You’re becoming quite the rebel, now.”

“Oh, shove it, Squint.” Revan says. “Kreia was never my master, she never wanted to be a Jedi either. It’s only for the best.”

“You’re not mad?” Anakin asks curiously.

“No, getting angry at the council over something like that would be useless and a waste of energy.” Revan says as if it’s an obvious solution to something that should technically be affecting them more.

“They’ll be fine.” Malak whispers into Anakin’s ear as he passes by. He feels his cheek flush when he stares at Malak and Revan leading the party once more up ahead. Half offended and half embarrassed that Malak must think he somehow cares about Revan’s wellbeing.

Back the ship there are two Jedi who stand by it. Anakin immediately recognizes Obi-Wan as one of them, and apparently Revan recognizes the other because they break out into a sprint, charging at the other Jedi, clothed in blue and white robes.

“Arren!” They shout happily and Arren turns from her conversation with Obi-Wan with delight and surprise to open her arms to accept Revan in a hug.

“Revan! You were gone for so long, I had begun to worry Vrook was going to whisk you away in chains back to the temple.”

“Please, the worst Vrook could do was shout at me until he put himself into an early death.”

Arren has to cover her mouth to hide a laugh.

Anakin glances at Obi-Wan who has his arms hidden beneath his robes, warding off the cold of the night, giving him a soft smile.

On his shoulder, Anakin feels a tap and Malak smiling down at him. “Well, go on lover boy.”

Shrugging Malak off, Anakin blows a tuft of hair out of his eye in a show of stubbornness. He easily gives in though, dream or not he wants to be close to his partner and when he walks to Obi-Wan’s side he puts a protective arm around the smaller man’s waist. There’s a giddy feeling that bubbles up within him when he can feel the soft bump of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“What are you doing here?” Revan asks Arren in disbelief.

“Yusanis and I have pledged our services to the Revanchist.” She gestures to the blue robes she wears and the beads that adorn her hair. Traditional Echani dress. “As you may know, Yusanis other 5 daughters are also extremely skilled in combat and offer their services to you as well.”

There is the unspoken question of Brianna, but Revan doesn’t push, and when Anakin looks at Obi-Wan he shakes his head.

“We graciously accept your offer, Arren.” Revan says warmly and takes her hands in theirs. “It would be an honor to fight side by side with you once again.”

-

The war picks up after that. The Mandalorians inch closer and closer to the Inner Rim planets as weeks pass. More Jedi leave the Order to support Revan, some with vows to return once the fighting ends, and others leaving their entire lives behind.

The dreams halt for a short while. It’s the longest break Anakin and Obi-Wan have had since they’ve started, most of the text being detailed descriptions of Revan’s allies and friends. In between Obi-Wan is mostly seen reading up on whatever datapad Che has given him to help him along with his pregnancy, or organizing the notes they’ve gathered from Revan’s journal.

Anakin suggests they add minor notes outlining important information they’ve seen from the dreams that can’t be proven as necessary fact but nonetheless supported by the journal’s texts.

The next dream seems disconnected from the rest.

It’s much more akin to the dreams that Anakin had had during the beginning of the journal’s discovery. Revan does not notice him, even when he calls out to them, nor does Malak.

The three of them stand in front of the entrance of an ancient ruin. He recognizes it from the texts as being found during one of Revan’s trips back to Dantooine.

Revan paces outside of the door as Malak stands with his back against one of the walls, arms crossed.

Etched into the large doors of the ruin is an ancient language Anakin does not recognize. It’s not anything similar to the Sith markings he’s studied at the temple or anything else he’s seen during missions.

When Revan places their palms against the door, Malak abruptly kicks off from his place at the wall in concern.

“Is this wise? The ancient Jedi sealed this archway. If we pass beyond this door, we can never go back.”

Revan pays him no mind, opening the doors with the Force.

“The Order will surely banish us. Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?” Malak presses.

Again, Revan does not answer. Through the doors in the middle of a grand room is a machine unlike anything Anakin has ever seen before.

-

_I have discovered something great. Horrible as Malak would like to call it but it is something that will ensure our victory in this war. In the ruins of Dantooine I have seemed to have found a map, or at least, a small piece of a larger one. Other pieces of these maps were scattered across the galaxy, and they have all lead me to the biggest secret the Rakatan’s have been hiding for centuries._

_They call it the Star Forge, the galaxy’s greatest weapon. It can build hundreds of ships within hours, days. The ability to assemble an entire fleet with a single command. Not only could it outmatch the Mandalorian’s, but it could outmatch the entire galaxy._

_I did not have malice intent when I had begun my campaign. I had only wished to ensure the defeat of my enemies who had dared come to harm the innocent and my friends._

_Kreia had taught me that the Sith were no better than the Jedi. Disillusioned in their path and blinded by their hatred. There is truth to it, there is very little the Sith have to offer when your sole intent is to crush anyone who dare stand in your way, if your very wish is to rule the galaxy._

_I have that power now with the Star Forge, but I will not use it like those Sith who would use it for such a ludicrous goal._

_Shortly after my discovery I traveled to Malachor V, hoping to answer questions I had about how I should use my newly gained power. It is here I discovered the Trayus Academy with Malak. A temple solely devoted to the Sith teachings and unlike any of the foolish teachings that are found in the tombs of Korriban._

_I do not consider myself seduced by the dark side, or having a change of heart from light to dark. This is simply who I am, who I was to be._

_The defeat of the Mandalorian’s will not be the end of the war across the Republic. The Order will pay for what they have done, not to me but to the lives they have ruined. Were they not quicker more would have lived, were they not so ignorant of their own aged ways they could have avoided their inevitable fate._

_Let the defeat of the Mandalorian’s be a lesson to the Order that they needed me. Let the defeat of the Republic by my hand be a lesson that they should have never have raised me._  



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update!  
> to clear up a tiny bit of detail: Anakin is 22 & Obi-Wan is 38 in this fic, I've fudged the numbers a bit for when the Clone Wars have ended. Their age stays consistent throughout the dreams unless stated otherwise.
> 
> Revan is 31 in this particular dream sequence and they will continue to grow older as we go further into the past and Arren is 56. If anyone is curious as to the ages of other characters let me know! I've got a little timeline written and everything.
> 
> This chapter ends with a bit of a cliffhanger, I'll do my best to get the next part out asap!

His moves are light and fluid, as if he hasn’t been spending the last few days bunched up behind a desk and lazing about in his council chair. Obi-Wan admits the dreams grant him a sense of invincibility and he swings his saber leisurely from hand to hand as he strikes down another Mandalorian soldier.

“Trying to catch up to me, Kenobi?” Arren shouts behind her shoulder when they meet back to back once more, falling into an easy pattern of continuous movements.

“I wasn’t aware we were keeping count!” Obi-Wan laughs when the woman rolls her eyes and pulls her saber out of another Mandalorian’s chest, wincing at the dull thud as they hit the ground.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been at this, he was surprised at first to awaken to Arren looming over him as they sat together in a transport ship. Telling him to gather his gear and get ready to jump. Given little explanation other than the fact that Revan had gone ahead to attack Mandalore’s base flagship and that they were assigned to the ground of Malachor V.

“This is our last push to win the war.” Arren had explained. “Surik is our head general, she’s commanding the fleet from her ship above ground. She’ll take care of us.”

“Is she close with Revan?” Obi-Wan asks with a huff. The surrounding area having been cleared a considerable amount, it gives the two a much needed break.

“Childhood friend of theirs, I assume. They weren’t very close as Padawans but it seems they have a mutual business agreement against the Mandalorians. It works for me.” She says with a shrug. “Surik was always a rather quiet girl. She never spoke more than was needed and had every code and ordinance you could think of memorized. I know several Masters who considered her for apprenticeship, myself included. She would’ve been very easy to teach.”

“Is that why you chose Revan instead? You wanted a challenge of some sort?”

Arren laughs throwing her braid over her shoulder and running a hand through her hair, wiping away the sweat across her forehead.

“Force, no. I saw Revan’s potential despite their drawbacks and decided to give them a chance, I didn’t foresee this mess happening at all. I’m sorry, Kenobi, this must seem very odd to you.”

He shakes his head politely. Obi-Wan holds no bitterness towards his and Qui-Gon’s past especially during his apprenticeship. The times where Qui-Gon was so close to dropping him as his student and their constantly clashing viewpoints. Anakin was unorthodox as well, not chosen, but moreover forced upon Obi-Wan. Either had very little choice in the making and while it does no good to storm the council demanding apologies for the past long gone, the bitterness he feels towards their decisions of Obi-Wan and his friend’s lives still lingers.

“Why did you come back to join Revan? Where have you been this whole time?”

“After my exile I had nowhere else to go. I stayed far from Yusanis’ home, I did not want to disturb his pre-existing family of daughters. We have all been helping in our own way however. Yusanis is a decorated general alongside his title of senator. The Echani are experienced in many types of combat and he has from time to time fought on the front lines to aid Revan’s cause.”

Obi-Wan admits surprise at Arren’s explanation. He finds it hard to believe Arren has spent the past ten years of her exile in hiding away from the war. The way she fights alongside him shows that she’s not gone a day without rigorous training of the mind and body. She’s much older now since the last time he’s seen her, older than even the ghost he sees in his rooms. Her blonde hair is so light it intermixes with the grey that still give her a youthful appearance, and the wrinkles that don her face seem to fall in ways that accentuate, not take away from her.

“Brianna is safe at home with her many sisters where the war won’t harm her.” Arren says, interrupting Obi-Wan’s thoughts.

“It’s been over twenty years and you’ve yet to speak to your own daughter yet, or even meet her?” Obi-Wan asks incredulously.

“I am waiting for the war to end.” Arren says with a sad smile as she avoids Obi-Wan’s eyes. Her gaze fixed on the dust in the distance of Malachor V. “I made the mistake of never raising Brianna, I abandoned her to her father when she was born. As the years went on and I spent my life hiding from the council I realized the longer I had waited the more I would’ve never been a real mother to her. I felt unwelcome. I didn’t want to change her life. She was already almost twelve when I had finally cut ties with the Order. I didn’t want her to be like me either, the Jedi path was not something I wanted to pass down.”

The rumble in the distance is something Obi-Wan and Arren both feel, and Arren ignites her emerald colored saber before continuing.

“She was force sensitive, my daughter.” Arren says, taking up a defensive stance. “Me and Yusanis agreed from then on we would hide her away so she could never be taken to the Jedi.”

The ground shakes with footsteps of hundreds and Obi-Wan can make out the definitive shapes in the dust cloud now. Hundreds of Mandalorian soldiers. Reinforcements.

“I was thinking after this war, I”ll finally meet her. Meet Brianna. To satisfy my regret.” Arren says calmly.

Obi-Wan moves to reply but is cut off short by the need to quickly deflect the blaster bolts emerging from the oncoming soldiers. When he glances over to Arren’s side she is swiftly defending herself from the onslaught of soldiers. Her eyes are alight with determined fire and it’s only now in this moment Obi-Wan realizes he and Arren share the same eye color, the same freckles upon their face. Her hair is more blonde, more golden, and even as she grits her teeth in a nasty snarl when a blaster bolt grazes her shoulder, Obi-Wan can’t help but think she looks like a goddess amongst this barren planet.

They’re too busy reflecting bullets and parrying soldiers with vibroblades to speak anymore, but as the battle drags on and Obi-Wan grows weary, he feels a wetness gathering in his eyes as the realization becomes stronger and stronger to him.

In some way, Arren is his mother, a fabricated _something_ that his mind has created. He wants this dream to end, he needs to speak with her ghost, the only real solid evidence that she actually existed besides the journal.

“Kenobi!” Arren shouts with harried breath. “If this battle serves as my death sentence, I want you to know that I died serving Revan proudly.”

Dream or not, Obi-Wan vows to protect Arren the best he can in this battle at least, and he rushes to her aid as his saber cuts through steel once more.

-

Anakin awakens in much the same way Obi-Wan does. Albeit aboard a much a larger ship, confused and wandering until he finds Revan on the bridge, pacing much like the time they had paced in front of doors of the ruins.

Amongst them lying cold and dead on the floor are the bodies of Mandalorian and Republic soldiers alike. Mandalore himself lies at the front of the bridge, maskless.

“The war is nearly won.” Revan says when Anakin enters. They wave Mandalore’s mask as if it’s some spoil of war and not a symbol of importance. “Once we take back Malachor V the Republic will need not worry of the Mandalorian threat no longer.” They still wear the battered mask of the dead Mandalorian woman on their face. Their voice echoes inside of it and the metal makes them sound so much colder than they already are.

“You slaughtered them all no better than the Mandalorian’s themselves.” Anakin starts.

“They killed without mercy. I only give back to them what they have given to me.”

Anakin’s eyes wander once more to Mandalore’s dead body at Revan’s feet. The king that started this entire war but he doesn’t feel anger. He feels something sorely misplaced in the aftermath of this battle.

The shrill alarm of a comm ringing breaks their argument and Revan quickly moves to answer the device on their arm.

“Master Revan.” A dull and serious voice rings out.

“Surik.” Revan answers flatly.

“The fight on the ground is becoming too dangerous. If we don’t take action soon the remainder of the Mandalorian fleet may catch up with your location.”

If Revan seems perturbed by this they don’t show it and Anakin watches with furrowed eyebrows and a snarl upon his face.

“Who is still on the ground?” Revan demands.

“I can confirm Arren Kae, along with Ferroh’s group and the squadrons Malak had sent out prior.”

Surik’s voice is smothered by the sound of another ring from the comm device and sounds of blaster fire can be heard.

“Revan? Surik? Are you out there?” A heavily accented voice comes through. “Arren and I’s position is being overrun, we are requesting to pull back.”

Anakin immediately recognizes the voice and rushes forward to grab the comm out of Revan’s hand.

“Obi-Wan, is that you?” He frantically shouts into the comm.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks with a gentle surprise but Revan snaps the comm back from Anakin’s hands.

“Surik, my fleet must be protected at all costs!”

Anakin grabs for the comm once more.

“What is Obi-Wan doing down there?” He asks fervently. Revan tries their best to avoid Anakin’s reaching hands but the two are suddenly knocked aggressively to the floor.

Neither register what truly is happening at first, all they can feel is the loss of breath and their being. As if life itself is being stripped from their souls and the cries of thousands of dying people seem to echo in their ears. Anakin cradles his head as he stares at the ground, eyes wet and mouth open in a silent scream. Revan fairs no better although they are the first to rise, panting with exhaustion and grabbing at the walls to steady themselves.

“General Surik, status.” Revan demands through the comm but they receive no answer.

With effort they finally reach the control panel to the side of the ship and hastily press the keys to pull up the live feed of Malachor V’s outer atmosphere and their eyes widen with horror underneath the mask.

“Obi-Wan was on there.” Anakin says in a small voice as he stands behind Revan looking at the screen with the same look of horror on Revan’s face.

The planet is bare and empty. Even with the atmospheric view it is clear that there are no living creatures still alive.

“Surik.” Revan calls a second time with no answer.

Anakin’s breathing is heavier now with fury and Revan does his best to ignore it.

“Mas...ter…” Surik’s voice finally returns, leaden with wetness and she chokes on her words.

“Meetra, status.” Revan demands this time with no sympathy.

“We’ve won but Malachor it’s-.” The comm cuts off as it’s knocked out of Revan’s hand as a durasteel fist collides with the thin metal of Revan’s mask. Effectively knocking the smaller Jedi to the floor. The mask comes clean off and Revan stares at the blood in front of them with dazed eyes.

“You killed him.” Anakin hisses. “You killed them all! Your own soldiers, your friends, your own Master!”

He wastes no time allowing Revan a recovery and covers Revan with his body weight as he pulls his fist back once more to strike.

Eyes unfocused, Revan manages to conjure enough of the Force to push Anakin off of themselves.

Clumsily picking themselves off the floor, they grip their aching head as they spit blood from their mouth and ignite their purple bladed saber. Revan's face is different than how they looked years ago. Their curled hair is still worn to their chin but the lines on their face are scars from battle. They bear an imprint of the mask as well, almost as if they hardly take it off.

What disturbs Anakin the most is the flecks of gold that decorate their green eyes.

“You aren’t the only one who lost things, Skywalker. Your whole life surrounded by the singular death of y-your mother.” Revan coughs, making a face at the taste of blood in their mouth. “Arren is just as dead as Kenobi and what have you and I to answer for it? We didn’t have any other choice. War has its costs. The Jedi Order has its costs and they will say it is in their best interest to protect everyone but in the end it’s only those who seize what they can that will win! You want someone to blame? Surik gave that order, not me!”

Anakin moves to grab his own saber but when his fingers meet his belt there is no weapon and he fixes an even more angrier gaze onto Revan.

“It doesn’t matter who gave the order!” His hand outstretched he summons the Force to squeeze the air out of Revan’s lungs but Revan matches him motion for motion and it’s Anakin who finds himself gasping for air.

“Who do you think you are, Skywalker?” Revan says forcing Anakin to the floor. “Your powers are nothing compared to mine.” Their words are filled with malice.

Anakin grabs at his neck in a futile effort to ward away the phantom fingers around them and he winces when the grip only seems to tighten.

“You may be the chosen one in your time, Skywalker, but this is my domain. Here I am like a _god._ The galaxy will bend at my will more than you can ever fathom.”

Revan walks forward towards Anakin until they’re standing over the dying man.

“I thought you were different.” They whisper. “But you’re no better than any other Jedi protecting their archaic views of righteousness. The Jedi murdered you and all you have ever done is roll over like a dog and submit to their wills.”

Anakin wants to protest, to shout and scream at Revan that they’re wrong, but a part of him deep down knows that they’re right. The Order stripped him of everything he had and no better enslaved him to their code just as he had been enslaved by contract before. He doesn’t understand Revan’s motives and what they have to do with him but he can’t ask and soon enough he feels relief at the pain in his neck subsiding and his vision fades to white, the last thought on his mind being a prayer to the Force that Obi-Wan be alright when they awaken.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i was busy moving and other things here is the next chapter it's kind of choppy but i have the rest of the fic mapped out to an extent so!!! we should be good. also i might skip around on this timeline cause i got #inspired so this might turn into a series???  
> as always unbeta'd

Obi-Wan is the first to awaken. The hard press of the carpet leaves an uncomfortable imprint on his cheek and he groans as he attempts to lift himself from it. He’s covered in sweat, noticeable enough that his robes are heavier and his hands are clammy with a phantom cold. He looks to his side where he can see Anakin waking as well.

A stir in his stomach urges him to rise faster and his legs shake as he runs to the fresher as quick as possible, emptying whatever contents of his last meal were.

Eyes focused finally and his shaking subsided he brings his hands to his stomach in relief knowing the baby is still there.

Anakin doesn’t take long to rush into the fresher, immediately gathering him into his arms and laying the man against his chest. He’s mumbling to himself a mantra consisting of asking Obi-Wan if he’s alright and that he’s glad that he’s safe.

With no energy to protest, Obi-Wan allows himself to relax in Anakin’s hold and he sighs, attempting to stop the occasional shudders of his body in the aftermath of the dream.

They sit there for some time until finally Anakin has finished his muttering and has settled his nose in Obi-Wan’s hair, simply holding the other man.

Shaking off Anakin’s arms from him, Obi-Wan rises to the sink to wash his face and mouth. He’s still toweling it dry when he notices Anakin is watching him intently to speak first.

“Surik killed Arren.” Is the first thing he can think of to say.

“Revan oversaw the project. Revan won the war, but not without killing everyone.” Anakin answers him seriously. There’s questions about Obi-Wan’s well-being that he wants to ask but Obi-Wan averts his eyes and ignores him.

“It was necessary.” He reasons and he gently pats Anakin’s shoulder to urge him aside to walk past him and out of the fresher.

“You died, Obi-Wan. I felt it all.” Anakin says desperately, following him. “There wasn’t anything necessary about that.” Anxiety rising in his tone.

“I would have died anyway, Arren would have died.” Obi-Wan corrects, doing his best to ease Anakin’s worries. “Anakin it was only a dream, I’m fine.” There’s still a twitch in his fingers as he uses the wall for support to make his way over to the bed but he does his best to not bring attention to it.

“I know, I know.” Anakin says hand going through his hair on impulse to calm his stress. “That’s what Revan was praised for by the Republic, right? Ending the Mandalorian War, but they started another one didn’t they?”

“Yes.” He confirms and reaches for the journal at his bedside but is stopped by Anakin’s firm hand over his.

“Obi-Wan you’re still shaking, you need to take a break from this.”

“No.” Obi-Wan protests. “They killed more than just those hundred on Malachor V. That was only the spark for the Jedi Civil War. The two turned Sith and began hunting down the Jedi. Malak took action then. He betrayed Revan and in turn Revan defected to the aid of the Order when it needed them most. But why? Revan hated the Order, the Republic and the Mandalorians, what could have happened to them to make them turn so fast, and especially on their own lover. What could have happened between Malak and Revan as well that, their relationship had fallen so fast?”

Anakin bites his lip and he squeezes Obi-Wan’s hand a little tighter. “Do we have to do this now?” He begs softly. “The journal can wait.”

Frustrated Obi-Wan tugs his hand out of Anakin’s grip and throws himself down onto the bed with the journal open in his lap.

“This is hard evidence against the council of our time that we can use to advocate for a looser code, Anakin. The Council hid things from Revan and there’s something in Revan’s history that’s being hidden from the public and from us. Palpatine’s death has made this so much more crucial and we don’t have much time left.”

Anakin’s pleading eyes are mirrored by Obi-Wan’s and he relents.

“Fine, I’ll make you some tea while you read, your stomach is still upset isn’t it?”

There’s a look of surprise on Obi-Wan’s face before it softens and he reaches out to gently squeeze Anakin’s hand. “Yes, that would be wonderful, thank you dear.”

When Anakin returns he sits beside Obi-Wan with a hand around the man’s waist and the other clasping his tea, holding it for him as Obi-Wan turns through pages of text.

The journal is sparse on details past the destruction of Malachor V. Revan talks of Arren’s death as if it is a simple casualty of war, along with the rumors that Kreia too had been trapped in the blast. Their words are emotionless but as they talk more and more of the Republic, the anger seems to seep through the pages.

 

_Shortly after the events of Malachor V, the Council sent for the three of us to answer for its destruction. Surik, the coward, fled loyally back to their arms. Malak questioned my initial choice to not have her killed but she is already as dead as a Jedi can be after that blast. It would be a waste of resources and my own time._

_I wish not to speak of my intents within such a vulnerable place such as this journal, although I will reveal that I have been constructing a Holocron of my research and teachings that I have gathered of the Sith. In this I have developed several important philosophies regarding the Sith, much of which have been inspired by the Trayus Academy itself. While I may refer to it as Sith knowledge, deep down and personally, I do not regard it as such. These are my own teachings, the collective thoughts of myself, Revan, and how crucial it will be that I do not stray from my own path that I have created for myself to follow._

 

The two read the journal in silence, they learn of Malak and Revan’s ascent as fearsome Sith Lords to the Republic and the Jedi, and of their systematic removal of power within the Senate.

“Revan wasn’t a ruthless killer, they specifically targeted individuals of high ranking positions that posed as a threat.” Obi-Wan says as he skims the pages of the journal, using a finger to keep his place.

Anakin shifts uncomfortably next to Obi-Wan, hand tensing on his side.

“A lot like…” Anakin trails hoping for Obi-Wan to fill in the blanks and the other man returns Anakin’s embrace. He doesn’t want to think about Palpatine and how much he had the galaxy wrapped around his finger. Obi-Wan doesn’t voice what he’s thinking, the wounds from that time still too fresh.

“Yes, although Revan wasn’t in complete hiding, the galaxy was very aware of who was assassinating these officers and senators.”

There is little spoken of Malak aside from mild complaints of his insubordination. Malak would often conflict with Revan’s plans and ideals, refuse to carry out certain orders, or ultimately challenge Revan’s teachings.

Obi-Wan pauses at a certain part of the journal, eyebrows knit in concern and his finger is frozen on the passage.

“What is it?” Anakin says leaning over to get a look at the page and Obi-Wan lets his hand fall.

“Revan killed Yusanis.” He says despondently. “He had challenged Revan to a duel and lost, but that’s exactly what Revan had wanted. Yusanis death destabilized the Echani government and prevented the Galactic Republic to fall.”

“Why would Revan want to keep the Republic together if it was the one thing they aimed to destroy?” Anakin asks. Yusanis death at Revan’s hand is unfortunate but he wasn’t particularly close to Arren Kae as Obi-Wan was.

“Revan had a monopoly over the Republic.” Obi-Wan explains flipping casually through the next pages of the journal. “The Republic supplied Revan’s Jedi hunt and in turn Revan left the Republic alone as long as they were allowed complete control over trade routes and the like.”

His frown deepens and he sighs, “Yusanis death wasn’t an act against Arren or out of bitterness, it was a calculated maneuver with no emotion put behind it. Yusanis was just another casualty.”

Anakin’s anger rises once more and he clenches his fist to avoid squeezing Obi-Wan too tight or worse, breaking something.

“Arren was just another casualty too, along with all those other lives on Malachor V.”

Obi-Wan looks up at Anakin as if to say something but his lips are in a thin line as he diverts his attention back to the journal.

 

_I did something terrible, far more terrible than that of the events of Malachor or any other action I have taken against the Jedi. Malak had approached me last night aboard my flagship. It had begun not too recently that we retain separate quarters. The reality of our positions as Master and Apprentice weighed heavily on our relationship and thus we had grown farther apart. Malak’s resentment of me had been obvious and something I foolishly overlooked._

_He had called me too soft to be a Sith. Were I still a Jedi I would have embraced such an accusation, but with my new station and name it was evident Malak only saw me as a threat to gaining his own power._

_In my anger I struck Malak with my saber, irreversibly harming him. He no longer retains the use of his jaw, and now I will never hear his voice again. At least, not without it being run through the new vocabulator he now wears._

 

Setting the tea down, Anakin reaches over to shut the journal closed and take it from Obi-Wan’s hands.

“We’re done.” He says firmly, Obi-Wan opening his mouth to oppose. “I don’t want to know anymore. Not today, not right after what I just had to go through in the dream.”

Obi-Wan gives a small noise of agreement, allowing Anakin to drop the journal to the floor alongside with the tea. Anakin takes the other man’s hands into his own and he brings their foreheads together.

“What are we going to do? When do we tell them?” The unasked question Anakin has been harboring for a while finally tumbling out. “I know that we’re carrying through with this regardless if we still stay as Jedi. But now? With the Republic’s secrecy and whatever else the Council is hiding? Do you really want to risk leaving when we’re the only ones aside from Satine and Padmé who know what’s wrong?”

Ducking his head down to rest on Anakin’s shoulder Obi-Wan lets out a heavy breath. “I don’t know. Neither of them have gotten back to me with positive news. Either way, if the Republic ends itself up in another war it is not the Jedi that I want to align myself with any longer.”

“Are you sure?” Anakin asks without surprise but with a tone of seriousness. He agrees with Obi-Wan’s reluctance to trust the Jedi any further. He remembers Revan’s journal and the parallels between himself and them. He doesn’t want to become the Republic’s hero once more. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I won’t fight for the Jedi again either. I don’t want that, I wouldn’t be able to do it again.”

“I understand, Anakin. I wouldn’t make you go through that and I won’t let the Council do that to either of us.”

Anakin nods to himself and brings his hands to Obi-Wan’s face to draw the man into a slow kiss. He sighs happily into it and the calmness in their bond can be felt almost instantly. It’s been long since the last time they’ve had a moment to themselves that wasn’t filled with Revan’s past or the Council’s badgering.

“Tomorrow we’ll have to pick up the pace, Anakin.” Obi-Wan says when they break away. “The sooner this journal is finished with the faster we can get to interrogating the Council.”

Anakin mumbles a small ‘I know’ before kissing him again, one of his hands wandering down Obi-Wan’s arms.

Obi-Wan gives up his words at that point, allowing Anakin to explore as he pleases.

Taking his time, Anakin’s hands squeeze at Obi-Wan’s sides where it seems to fill out his robes more prominently and he guides him to lie down as he nips at his neck.

“I know I don’t look the best right now…” Obi-Wan trails off as he averts his eyes and reaches for the covers. He’s stopped by Anakin more fervently attempting to remove his robes.

“Don’t say that, you look amazing. It’s not like you can help it anyway, don’t think of yourself that way. I’ll still love you no matter what you look like, Obi-Wan.”

Red rushes up to Obi-Wan’s face and he throws his arm across his face to hide it.

“You’re the most embarrassing…-”

“Mmm...none of that now.” Anakin says playfully moving his arm out of the way to lay kisses on rosy cheeks and finally back to Obi-Wan’s lips effectively silencing him.

Once Obi-Wan’s belt and upper robes have been undone enough that Anakin can get a good look at him he can’t help but be filled with a warm feeling at the sight of Obi-Wan’s round belly. He had felt it earlier in the dream but this is real and definitely not anything he could possibly make up in his mind.

“Have you thought about names?” Anakin asks as he undoes the clasps of Obi-Wan’s pants who gives him an astonished look.

“Now’s hardly the time to be asking me those kinds of questions!” Obi-Wan says voice rising with embarrassment. “And no, I haven’t. I’ve hardly had time to think about anything lately if you couldn’t tell.”

Shrugging, Anakin continues speaking while taking off his own robes. “I almost thought about asking Padmé for ideas but it would feel awkward. I wanted to know your opinion.”

“She wouldn’t be the worst person to ask, judging by how you name your ships your judgement is no better than mine.”

Anakin grins at the half-hearted insult and slicks one of his fingers up with his tongue. “You’re right, I’ll talk to Padmé when there’s less work to be done around here.”

With that he promptly fills Obi-Wan with the finger, working him slowly to get used to the feeling, reveling in the small gasp Obi-Wan gives at the first intrusion.

“Your foreplay is terrible, Anakin.” Obi-Wan says with heavy breath, bearing down on the comfortable stretch.

Humming, Anakin removes his finger and surges forward to help Obi-Wan sit up a bit. “Maybe you can help with that.” He says as he guides one of Obi-Wan’s hands to his belt and the other man instinctively begins unbuckling the bulky belt.

Deft fingers bring Anakin’s cock out from his trousers, stroking him to fullness and smearing pre-cum around the head. The conversation dies down until there’s nothing but slick sounds that can be heard as he lines himself up with Obi-Wan’s wetness. Their moans are swallowed down when Anakin leans over to mold his lips to Obi-Wan’s as he thrusts in, seating himself comfortably.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan manages to whisper as he squirms on Anakin’s cock, feeling impossibly full. He winds his arms around his partner’s back, legs around his waist, and holds on tight through the forceful drag and pull that leaves him winded and gasping for more.

There’s no more backtalk from Anakin, he hears every whimper and whine of encouragement from Obi-Wan and takes it in stride, a hand firmly pressed down beside Obi-Wan’s head to leverage himself to pick up speed.

Obi-Wan knows Anakin is close once his hips start to stutter, one of his hands is kneading Obi-Wan’s breasts and his mouth is sucking a hard bruise into the side of his neck that will definitely be visible later. A sharp intake of breathe from Anakin and he’s coming, barely registering when Obi-Wan had snuck a hand in between them to bring himself off as well. The room seems to blur to the both of them in that moment, heavy panting the only sound that can be heard as the two come down from their high.

The wetness between his legs as Anakin pulls out is still an awkward sensation to Obi-Wan but he ignores it as he’s smothered by dark curls, limbs, and sheets.

“We have to get cleaned up soon, Anakin.” Obi-Wan says despite hugging Anakin closer to him.

Shifting to avoid crushing Obi-Wan’s stomach, Anakin rolls to the side and throws a protective arm over his chest.

“Five more minutes? At least before the Council steals you away from me for the rest of the day?”

Obi-Wan gives an annoyed sigh before agreeing, Anakin knowing that he’s only playing when a hand runs through his unruly hair and a kiss is placed on his forehead.

They fall asleep with content smiles on their faces and if the buzzing from Obi-Wan’s comm wakes them an hour later it’s of no worry to either of them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing a bunch of new characters (who might be familiar to some and others not) let me know if things need clarifying, i do most of my writing at 4am. also this is gonna start following the basic route of kotor, i'll try to spice things up so it's not completely play by play on what happens in the game  
> unbeta'd

He wakes to fire. Although he isn’t awake, it’s more as if his mind is opening itself up to the outside world. It isn’t much of a difference though and if he could scream he would, as heat engulfs his being and he feels the vacuum of space tug at his eyes.

He can’t see anything, sense anything, he can’t feel his arms or legs and it’s as if he isn’t really a person at all. Surrounding him by all sides, pulling him into some dark abyss.

Obi-Wan tries to remember where had been before this strange feeling had overcome him.

He had gone to bed after speaking with Depa, after dealing with the Council’s many needs. No, that didn’t seem right at all, he had a dream after he had fallen asleep as well. He had been aboard Revan’s flagship, three other Jedi following him close behind as he navigated the tight halls of the ship. He couldn’t recall their names but he had known them for what felt like a lifetime, they had been assigned with him to board and detain Revan by any means necessary by the Council on Dantooine.

He can still hear the gurgle of the Republic soldier Revan had choked in front of them all, tossing him to the ground like a doll.

He remembers igniting the golden colored saber in his hands, hands that weren’t exactly his. They were much too small, softer too. He didn’t realize he had been viewing everything as it were from Bastila’s body until he was speaking without thought.

“You cannot win, Revan!” The accented tone of Bastila’s voice ringing out as she pointed towards the Sith Lord in front of her, saber at the ready.

And just like that she and the other Jedi had been knocked down by the explosion in front of them, smoke filling the now burning bridge of the flagship.

The burning feeling is still prominent and without suspicion, Obi-Wan’s arms (or would they be technically Bastila’s?) ache as he crawls to his knees, seeing the entirety of the computers and screens at the front of the bridge on fire.

Revan’s figure lies limp on the ground in front of him and despite the voice ringing in his mind telling him _‘No’_ Bastila’s body moves forward of its own accord, crawling desperately to Revan’s side.

He could feel every muscle of Bastila’s form, every pulse of energy as he feels the Force accumulate from deep inside her, and as she places her hands on Revan’s body he can feel the texture of the heavy woolen robes Revan wears tangle in her fingers.

_‘No, no, no.’_ His mind screams louder but he can’t stop her, the energy around them building and building until he feels the numbness in his head and he promptly blacks out.

-

A rumble from deep within the floors has Anakin on his feet in an instant. Too used to the call of the battlefield during the Clone Wars, ears attuned to every little sound and body ready to rise at the slightest hint of danger.

He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in and he immediately concludes that it’s a dream, he’s dressed in his skivvies and he knows for a fact he had fallen asleep with his robes still on. The durasteel walls clattering as another explosion shakes them to their core but before he can question it further the doors slide open.

A man with greying hair and a red uniform Anakin doesn’t recognize runs inside.

“We’ve been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack. Hurry up and grab your gear - we don’t have much time!”

Revan. It must be them attacking Anakin discerns and when he turns to locate his clothing he’s met with a round face he is all too familiar with despite it’s aged appearance.

“Revan!” He snarls as he recognizes those purple curls all too easily and he lunges forward to grasp their vulnerable form.

“Hold it there!” The grey haired man shouts as he grabs Anakin roughly to separate the two. Revan looks startled, eyes wide with anger and they hold out their hands in front of Anakin ready to stop him if he tries to attack again.

“Keep your hands to yourself, creep!” They shout defensively. “And who’s Revan? I’ve never met either of you before in my life.”

The grey haired man looks stressed and he quickly motions for Anakin to get suited up. “I’m Trask Ulgo.” He explains to the both of them. “I’m your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire. We all work opposite shifts; I guess that’s why neither of you have seen me before.” He turns incredulously to Revan then. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t know who Revan was but they were only one of the biggest threats to the galaxy in the past couple of years. They’re responsible for who’s attacking us now! They were the Sith Lord Malak’s master until Malak decided to turn on Revan and kill them to take their place.” Trask shakes his head. “This is all unimportant we have to find Bastila before it’s too late.”

The name Bastila is familiar to Anakin but the Revan look-a-like (or so they say they aren’t Revan) next to him only looks even more confused by this all.

“Who is Bastila?” They ask with a desperate air of just wanting answers for this wild situation. At least they have half a mind to arm themselves with one of the blasters in the foot locker beside the bed just as Anakin had grabbed a vibrosword.

“Bastila’s the commanding office on the Endar Spire. Well, not an officer, really. But she’s the one in charge of this mission. Our primary duty is to guarantee her survival in this situation. You both swore this oath as soldiers of the Republic, now act like it!” Trask says as he turns to leave the room.

Anakin motions for Revan to walk in front of him, not quite trusting their excuse for seemingly having lost all of their memories.  
“What’s your name?” He asks with a tone of authority as the three make their way down the halls of the ship.

“Castille Bol.” They say, the name slipping of their tongue with no hesitation. “And before you ask, I don’t know anymore than you do. The best either of us can do is to shut up and just get rid of these damned Sith that are apparently attacking.”

He doesn’t argue, reluctantly twirling the vibrosword in his fingers to familiarize himself with it’s foreign grip and weight which is much different than his lightsaber's.

When they turn a corner they meet a group of two Republic soldiers fighting off an opposite pair of uniformed Sith. They’re nothing like the Sith Anakin is used to fighting in his time. These soldiers are not force sensitive, they’re normal people suited up in the uniform of whatever Revan’s empire seems to be representing, black skin-tight fabric covered with golden armor and helmets concealing their entire face.

Trask watches as the Republic soldiers fall to their blaster bolts and he charges in line, his own blaster in hand with a cry.

Castille and Anakin follow him and their enemies drop like flies, just like the droids Anakin had fought not too long ago.

He falls back into the steps easily, and room after room of the Endar Spire is cleared of the Sith soldiers, Castille’s aim is sharp but there’s a hesitation in the way they hold their blaster, as if their fingers fumble with it’s odd shape.

“Castille.” Anakin calls after them when they try to take the lead ahead of Trask. “Wanna switch?” He asks holding out the end of his vibrosword to them in offering.

They fix Anakin with a look of suspicion before handing over the blaster and wrapping their hands firmly around the vibrosword. Their form instantly looks more relaxed and it’s as Anakin thought. _Too accustomed to holding a lightsaber._

The distant buzz of a comm plays but the voice is too far away for any of them to make out. Trask suggests they make their way to the bridge, it’s the only way to the escape pods and any chance of them surviving.

The way is littered with more Sith soldiers but they’re disposed of quickly. As the next set of doors that will lead them to the Bridge open revealing a bald man dressed in Sith robes, Trask quickly jumps ahead of Castille to push them back. “It’s a dark Jedi, we won’t stand a chance against him, go! I’ll hold him off until you can get to the escape pods.”

“Wait-! I can h-” Anakin moves to follow Trask but the man closes the door too quickly, a loud click resounding as it locks.

Banging his fist against the durasteel, Anakin jumps when Castille places a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s go. We won’t let his sacrifice go to waste. The pods should be around here somewhere.”

Anakin follows them silently, frustrated by the ambiguity of this dream.

“What’s your name? I told you mine.” Castille says as their boots thud across the already shaking floor.

“Anakin Skywalker. Though you should already know that. I practically grew up with you.”

Castille brushes of his hostility and shrugs. “Never heard of you, buddy. I grew up on the outskirts of some run down trade planet. Signed up with the Republic as early as I can remember. They wanted my skills for this mission apparently. I can’t… I can’t quite remember what possibly for though.” Castille spins the vibrosword in their hand absently.

“Hey, Hot Shot.” The nickname brushes Anakin the wrong way though he doesn’t argue. “You don’t think it’s odd we both didn’t know who that Trask guy was? Or where we were? The three of us all rooming in that sorry excuse of a room my ass…”

They turn a corner into another room and Anakin shoots the three exposed Sith soldiers before they can say a word. “I don’t disagree with you.” Anakin says as he pockets an extra blaster from one of the soldiers and a vibrosword from another. He hands the extra blaster to Castille and locks the sword onto his belt.

The buzz of a comm rings again and this time they easily find the source of it. One of the computers by a door flashes to life and Anakin and Castille run over to answer the call.

“This is Carth Onasi, I’m glad the two of you could make it. I’ll patch the code to override the door right now.”

A couple more clicks and with a sound of pressurized steam being released, the door opens to reveal a brown haired man in a Republic issued orange jacket.

“One more than I was expecting.” Carth says soundly as he makes eye contact with Anakin. He steps aside promptly and gestures towards the remaining escape pod. “There’s only one pod left so it’ll be a tight squeeze.”

Anakin allows Revan in first, Carth following close behind him. They’re a mess of limbs as they try to make three people fit in the tiny space but it’s quickly forgotten as the thrum of the breaking ship reverberates in their skulls.

-

When Anakin wakes he expects to see the dull browns of his quarters in the Jedi Temple and the light reflecting off the window shutters. However, he is met with dark blues and more durasteel plating that lines the walls of the apartment he can’t recognize. He rolls over on the cot he lays upon with a groan and gets a faceful of purple curls for his trouble. “Ugh!” He spits out and Castille rises beside him, woken by the sudden sound.

“Good to see the two of you made it in one piece.” Carth says from his corner of the room. “Sorry you had to share the bed, this was the only apartment on the Upper City that was free.”

“Where are we?” Castille asks ignoring Anakin and standing up from the bed. “Force, my head.” They immediately cradle their skull as they sit back down slowly this time.

“Taris, it’s a Sith controlled planet, not the best place to crash land but I’ve heard rumors that another Republic pod crashed nearby here. That’s got to be Bastila.”

Anakin helps Castille settle back down beside him, he doesn’t believe the act their pulling but he’ll play along for as long as he can bear it. They’ve probably led Carth here on purpose, if this is a Sith base then there’s bound to be an ambush party waiting just outside one of the doors.

“What’s wrong with Castille?”

“They were having a pretty bad nightmare.” Carth answers him. “I was worried we’d lost them for a bit just after we had landed but they seem to be making good progress.”

“I’m fine.” Castille snaps, shrugging Anakin’s hands off their shoulders. “We need to find this Bastila you said? She’s your commanding officer but what’s so special about her.”

“She’s _our_ commanding officer.” Carth corrects. “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard back there. Bastila was one of the Jedi leading the strike team that killed Revan after Malak turned on them.”

“How are you sure Revan is dead?”

Carth fixes Anakin with a strange look and locks his blaster into the holster on his leg. “When the Council approached the Republic about the events that happened on the flagship they announced Revan dead and that Malak had taken the title of Master. That not proof enough?”

Anakin grits his teeth and looks at Castille’s face. Same eyes, same nose, same lips. Even down to the same curls that would bounce and sometimes get in their face during sparring with Alek or Arren. “Nevermind, I just have a hard time believing the Jedi.”

“Skywalker, if you have a problem with me then you better speak up now.” Castille says as they rise again, less shaky now that their apparent headache has worn off. “Otherwise quit staring. I don’t care what beef you have with the Jedi as long as you’re not on the side of the Sith.” They lock eyes with Carth and give him a firm nod. “I don’t want to stick around here any longer than you two. We look for Bastila and go from there. Let’s head out.”

When they exit the apartment complex, the wide open skies of Taris fill their view. The horizon is littered with Sith ships that seem to be at a standstill. The streets are filled with Sith troopers armed to the teeth, walking amongst the citizens, shoving women and children out of their way with no concern.

“They have complete control over this sector of the city. We have to act casual if we want information. Not all the citizens will want to talk.” Carth says lowly.

“We should go to the Cantina over there.” Anakin points from across their location. He’s reminded of how Obi-Wan has always favored gathering intel and he absently misses the man’s company. “There’s bound to be someone dumb enough to spill anything they know.”

The three are all in agreement, they enter with high hopes but exit with only a small lead. The escape pod that crashed was indeed seen, but quickly salvaged by greedy Undercity thugs.

Carth is the first to speak up. “We should go to the Lower City, there’s a Sith trooper guarding the entrance but if one of us can steal a uniform we can get clearance.”

The uniform is easily acquired from an Aqualish they find being accosted by troopers accusing him of being a spy in his own apartment. The troopers are easily dealt with and as a sign of thanks the Aqualish generously allows the three to loot the troopers of their garments.

“The Sith were not wrong about me being a spy.” He confesses to them. “If you want to strike a blow against them I would suggest speaking to Gadon Thek of the Hidden Beks. I am sorry I cannot offer more information than that.”

“It’s fine, we’re just glad you’re safe.” Castille says as they see him off safely to his next destination.

“Well boys,” Castille says as they turn back to Anakin and Carth. “There’s three of us and three of them.” Gesturing towards the dead bodies of the Sith troopers.

They exit the apartment, geared up head to toe in the Sith issue armor and Anakin grumbles under the weight of it.

“I wore armor during the war but nothing like this.”

“Get what you mean.” Carth answers, securing the last clasp of his own belt around his waist. “I can already feel my shirt getting stuck to my back. It’s so hot in these.”

“My hair is going to be a mess after this.” Castille whines.

“With luck we won’t be in here too long.” Carth says with a hopeful tone.

The trip to the entrance to the Lower City is made with much more ease, although the tense atmosphere is still present. The looks of fear and unrest from the civilians create discomfort in Anakin but he’s not entirely a stranger to the feeling. As a Jedi there’s always been those who viewed him as a hero, and those who viewed him as a threat.

Ever since the end of the war and ever since he began to learn more and more of how the Jedi have continued to wrong those in the past, he finally understands what it feels like to be afraid of the Order and the power it commands.

As they reach the lift that leads towards the Lower City, Castille takes the lead, not bothering to talk to the Sith soldier guarding it. Castille gives them a curt nod as they wait for the lift to arrive.

The soldier, however, seems to be bored with his shift and opens with small talk that the trio could care less about.

“Another patrol heading down the Lower City, eh?” He says with an accent that distantly reminds Anakin of Obi-Wan’s. “Good luck… I’ve heard it’s pretty rough down there. There’s a big swoop gang war going on, you know.”

“Swoop gang?” Anakin asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. He gets an elbow in his side from Carth for his troubles but the lift guard doesn’t seem put off by the question.

“You’ve heard about swoop racing haven’t you? Dangerous sport, stirs up too much trouble with those Lower City scum. Wish we had the manpower to sweep those slums clean.”

The lift opens and Castille enters it without a word. Carth and Anakin follow behind closely and the lift guard peeks his head in. “Careful out there, yeah? They’ll take a shot at anyone, even us!”

The door closes and Castille lets out the breath they were holding.

“Were you nervous?” Carth asks astounded. He gets a shove to his shoulder in return.

“I didn’t think he’d just start talking to us like that!” They say in a hurried whisper but Anakin points out they’re alone in the lift where no one can hear them. “I’m not a much of a people person if you can’t tell.” Castille admits with a louder voice.

Anakin lets out an obnoxious snort that comes out sounding like a dying pig through the Sith soldier’s armor. “Trust me, you know how to talk to people.”

“What does that even mean?” Castille asks with frustration, Anakin getting on their last nerve with the way he doesn’t trust them. What could they have possibly done wrong in their supposed past together to upset the brooding man.

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, like that Sith guard said though, the folks down here will shoot anything that moves. Which means we can take these off now.”

They quickly divest themselves of the armor, folding it neatly so that it’ll fit within the duffel bag Carth is carrying with them. Only one set of armor will fit, but it’s enough if they need a quick disguise and an escape plan. Shoving the rest of the armor in a corner of the lift, the doors open and Castille immediately scrunches up their face in disgust.

“It smells horrible down here.” They say with a hand covering their nose and mouth.

“Just wait till you get to the Undercity, beautiful. It’s crawling with all the best smells to assault your senses.”

“Don’t call me that.” Castille deadpans and walks past him rather determinedly. “And that’s not funny.” Carth drops it.

“There’s another Cantina here.” Castille says, changing the subject. “Maybe they know more about the swoop gangs who might be involved with Bastila’s disappearance.”

“I could go for a cold drink.” Carth says with mirth and Anakin shoots him a look that says he should stop but Castille smiles.

“Maybe you’re flirtatious advances can woo some information out of one of these poor cantina-goers.”

Anakin, much too young to understand the higher intricacies of middle-aged flirting and much too old to even find humor in it at all, walks through the Cantina doors. The music is loud and pulsing and reminds him of the many times he and Obi-Wan had found themselves drunken messes during routine missions. (After the missions were complete of course.)

“I told you to leave me alone!” A high voice shrieks out and for a split-second Anakin swears he’s heard Ahsoka. He runs into the Cantina but, instead of the unmistakable blue and white lekku he’s grown accustomed to hearing with that voice, he’s met with a young Twi’lek with cerulean skin. A Rodian has her by the arm and she’s stirring up a storm with the glare she has aimed at him.

“Give me some space, Bug-eye! Your breath smells like bantha poodoo!”

Anakin lets out a choked laugh at that, the girl sounds exactly like Ahsoka and he misses his padawan with all his heart.

“Little girl should not be in bar. This no place for little girl. If little girl smart, she run away home now.” The Rodian says in broken up basic.

The Twi’lek pulls her arm from his grip and steps up into the Rodian’s personal space. “Who you callin’ a little girl, Chuba-face?”

The Rodian’s pissed now, Anakin didn’t think their green faces could turn red but the flush of embarrassment on the Rodian’s cheek is evident as ever.

“Little girl needs a lesson-” He starts towards her, hand reaching for his blaster but Anakin intervenes first.

“Leave her alone.” He says, hand firm on the vibroblade he snagged from the crashing Endar Spire. He doesn’t draw his weapon but the Rodian seems to know when he’s outmatched in a fight. Anakin’s height makes him tower over the Rodian as well as half the other cantina patrons.

“We don’t want no trouble with friend. Our problem with you, little girl!” The Rodian says with a pointed look at the Twi’lek.

The girl seems to get an idea as she looks up at Anakin’s arm between the two of them and she puts her hands on her hips with her chin up proud.

“You got a problem with me, then you got a problem with Big Guy over here. So unless you want to take on my tall friend, I suggest you greenies hop on out of here.”

Anakin doesn’t let the amusement show on his face as he tries his best to keep a menacing stare towards the Rodian.

“Little girl lucky she has big friend.” He says bitterly as he turns away, walking from a fight he know he won’t win.

Once the Rodian’s disappeared, the Twi’lek turns on Anakin with a frustrated look on her face.

“Thanks, Big Guy, but I didn’t need your help. I could’ve handled it myself. These sleemos don’t know how long I’ve been sneaking around these parts of town by myself.” She examines Anakin closer and relaxes. “Say, I don’t recognize you and I know pretty much everyone in the Lower City. You must be new down here. I guess that makes me your official welcoming committee!”

“Aren’t you a little young to be in and out of a Cantina like this?” Anakin asks with only a hint of concern. He knows girls Ahsoka’s age can handle themselves but it doesn’t stop the inner protective instinct he holds. _Force,_ He thinks, _Am I going to be like this with my kid?_

“You showed a lot of guts dealing with that Rodian, kid. You got a name?” Carth asks as he and Castille appear from behind Anakin.

“My name’s Mission Vao.” Mission says with a grin. “I’d offer to give you a tour, but the streets down here aren’t safe. But if there’s anything else you need…”

“Do you know anything about the Swoop gangs down here?” Castille interrupts her.

“Yeah, there’s really only two gangs down here worth worrying about. The Black Vulkars and the Hidden Beks. The Bek’s leader is Gadon Thek - he’s a nice guy. I hang down at the Bek base whenever I need a place to lay low. It’s the Vulkar’s that are the nasty ones. Brejik, Gadon’s adoptive son, left the Bek’s and took over the Vulkar’s as head of command. Now all they do is terrorize the Lower City. It’s gotten bad enough that even the Sith don’t like wandering too long down here.”

“Looks like Gadon is the one we want to talk to, then.” Carth says looking back between Anakin and Castille who nods in agreement.

“You going?” Mission asks. “Yeah, this dive is pretty boring. No action around here. Maybe we’ll see each other around.” She turns to leave but then stops as if she’s remembered something. “Hey, if any of you see a big Wookie, tell him Mission’s looking for him, yeah?”

Anakin agrees they’ll be on the look-out and she gives him a grin before hopping away energetically.

Gadon’s base isn’t very far from the Cantina but it’s still a significant walk from the Cantina that’s spent in silence. Castille’s force signature seems muted when Anakin reaches out tentatively and when he pushes harder Castille doesn’t even flinch. It’s as if they aren’t even aware that Anakin is forcing his mind against theirs. Carth is even a more difficult figure to make out. He had been tense earlier but that was to be expected, they had all been tense on this foreign planet teeming with Sith. Now that they’re in the safe confines of the Lower City with only the occasional thug to look out for, there’s no need for anyone to still be on edge.

When Anakin reaches out to Carth there’s an aura of tumbling energy, mistrust and confusion barrel into Anakin’s mind in a flurry that’s enough to make him stop in his tracks.

The other two don’t notice and keep walking.

“Carth.” Anakin calls out, awkwardly standing in place, arms at his sides and unsure of where to put them.

“Yes? What’s on your mind?” Carth asks curiously with a raised eyebrow when he turns around to see Anakin’s stiff posture.

“What’s your problem with us?” Anakin asks. It’s phrased as a question but also a demand.

“I don’t have a problem.” Carth starts, frustration laced in his voice. “I just don’t know either of you.”

Their conversation has Castille interested too and they fix Carth with a confused look.

“We don’t know you either, buddy. What makes you think you’re any different than us?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Carth says, shaking his head. “It’s just surprising to me that you happen to be here. What are your positions with the Republic fleet, anyway?”

Castille frowns and crosses their arms. “Why? Are you accusing us of something?”

Voice hurried, Carth shakes his head. “Not at all. I just think it’s a bit odd that you two got added to the crew roster at the last minute and you two happen to be the only survivors.”

“I don’t understand how any of that even correlates.” Anakin cuts in and Carth keeps going.

“Don’t get me wrong, it just seems odd that people Bastila’s party specifically requested to transfer aboard happened to survive.”

“You got a problem with Bastila?” Castille asks. “I don’t know the lady so your word’s all we’ve got.”  
  
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” Carth starts. “It’s just that I learned a long time ago that the Jedi aren’t all they’re hyped up to be. The Jedi requested numerous things when they came on board... hell, they practically took over the ship, as far as I could tell. Considering your connection to Bastila and the Jedi… whether you know it or not... your presence here seems a little convenient.”

“We didn’t even know who Bastila was until we got on board this ship.” Anakin points out and Castille turns away.

“The name sounded familiar to me.” They admit. “I just couldn’t exactly pinpoint where I had heard it before. A lot of things seem fuzzy to me since that crash.”

“I’m probably wrong and this probably nothing.” Carth interjects. “Look… it has nothing to do with either of you, personally. I don’t trust anyone, and I have my reasons.”

Castille looks as if they want to say something, instead they turn around leading.

“The base is up ahead. They might be kind to Mission but we should still be on our guard.”

Conversation not entirely forgotten, Anakin joins them and Carth trails behind rubbing his arm absentmindedly in irritation.

Anakin doesn’t know what to make of this iteration of Revan nor does he trust Carth entirely either. Did Revan have some unexplained twin? Is the real Revan actually dead? It feels like such a longshot of a theory but Anakin doesn’t dismiss the notion. Still, he is wholeheartedly convinced that the Castille who stands in front of him is most definitely the same Revan.

The Hidden Bek base is nothing extraordinary or different from the rest of the Lower City apartments. It is a wide open space with many halls that house its members with minimal necessities included.

Gadon stands behind his desk next to a cream-colored Twi’lek with striking purple ombre lekku that fade into blue at the tips. As they approach Gadon, Anakin can see the man is a rugged soul. He has a pierced brow and milky eyes, Anakin can already discern that Gadon Thek is blind.

The Twi’lek moves into an offensive stance when they approach and Castille tenses.

“Who are you? What business do you have with the Hidden Beks?” The Twi’lek orders but Gadon raises a hand to stop her.

“Forgive Zaerdra, past events have led her to be overzealous in her security duties. She seems to forget that I know how to look after myself!” He says with a hint of annoyance.

Zaerdra rolls her eyes but her stance tells Anakin that if they try anything they won’t be leaving in one piece.

“Do you know anything about the escape pods that crashed here?” Castille asks, straight to the point.

“The escape pods?” Gadon says with consideration. “The Vulkars stripped those pods clean within hours after they landed. A female Republic officer named Bastila survived the crash. We Beks don’t believe in intergalactic slavery, but the Vulkars aren’t so picky. They took her prisoner. Along with another Republic man. We aren’t too sure who the man was but if he was with Bastila I reckon he was another officer. The Vulkars normally sell their slaves off to Davik for a nice profit but a Republic Officer is no ordinary catch.”

“They took them as slaves?” Anakin says with disbelief and anger. “We have to get Bastila back as soon as possible.” He says to Carth.

“They still think Bastila is just a Republic Officer.” Carth says with hope. “That could work to our advantage. Maybe she’ll figure out a way to escape from the Vulkar base on her own. I can’t imagine who the other officer might be. There was no one else on the ship that survived.”

Gadon shakes his head.

“They’re too valuable to be left with the Vulkar scum at the base. Brejik’s probably got both of them locked away somewhere safe until the big swoop race. You’ll never find her. Brejik’s offered her and the other officer up as the Vulkar’s share of the prize in the annual swoop gang race.”

“Even if you challenged all the gangs and won Bastila back you wouldn’t stand a chance.” Zaerdra finally speaks up. “There’s enough gangs to run all of us out even if you helped.”

“The only hope you have of rescuing Bastila is to somehow win the big season opener of the swoop race.” Gadon says with finality. “The swoop race is for Lower City gangs only. I could sponsor one of you as a rider for the Hidden Beks this year. If you win the race we get Brejik off our backs and you get your friends back. A fair trade.”

“We’ll do it.” Castille answers before anyone else can.

Gadon grins. “There’s one set-back. The Vulkar’s stole our prototype for an accelerator that can let a swoop bike win any race. You’ll need to steal it back for us.”

“Done.” Anakin pipes in, Castille giving him a look that says ‘Let me do the talking.’

“Easier said than done. The Vulkar base is sealed shut from the front door. Mission Vao is a good friend of mine that can help you out.”

Zaerdra looks Gadon anxiously. “Gadon, She’s just a kid.”

“A kid that’s got the back alley of the Lower City better memorized than half of our best men. She knows the Undercity sewers better than anyone too. You’ll probably find her hanging out in the Undercity or the Cantina.”

“We know Mission, we met her right before coming here. She’s the one who told us to speak with you.”

Gadon lets out a laugh. “Figured she’d tell a stranger that I have a soft side, If you saw at the Cantina she probably went to the sewers. There’s not much to do around here, not with the Sith roaming.”

The Undercity is no better than the Lower City. The thick smog that fills the area puts strain on their lungs. Used to fumes from machinery and thick sandstorms in Tatooine Anakin bears the uncomfortable atmosphere, although he sees Castille tying a handkerchief around their face and coughing.

The homeless and poor litter the streets of the Lower City. They’re donned in rags and their faces are sullen - limbs thin from lack of food. There is a chorus of wheezing and wet coughs as Castille guides them further into the camp. Many of the citizens seem to be sick, splotches decorate their face and quarantined away behind a fence.

Before any of them can approach one of the locals, a blue blur comes barreling towards them. Mission is panting as she runs through one of the gates - void of quarantined citizens.

“Big Guy!” She shouts as she almost shoves into Anakin when she slows to a stop in front of him. “Am I glad to see you, you have to help me. Even the Beks won’t help me. But I can’t just leave him there - he’s my friend! You’ll help me, won’t you?”

“Woah there, what happened?” Anakin says as he puts his arms on her shoulders to steady her. A calming gesture as well considering her breath is still fast and riddled with anxiety.

“It’s Zaalbar. Big Z, my Wookie friend. He’s in trouble - big trouble! We have to help him. If we don’t they’ll sell him into slavery!”

Anakin’s eyes widen and he turns back to Carth. “There are slavers on this planet?” But the man only shrugs in response.

“They’re Gamorrean slave hunters. They tried to get to me but Big Z threw himself at them and told me to run! I took off - I thought he was right behind me. We have to hurry now, they’re going to sell him to a slaver - I just know it!”

“Slow down, kid.” Castille interrupts. “We don’t have time to deal with slavers, we have to get inside that Vulkar base to rescue one of our own before _she_ gets sold to a slaver.”

Anakin turns to Castille with a fiery look in his eyes, ready to protest but Mission jumps between them, arms out.

“You got a deal. I’m the only one who knows how to hack the Vulkar Base’s mainframe and let you all in. You help me save Big Z and I’ll show you the way inside.”

Anakin looks at Mission sympathetically. “Mission we don’t have to make a deal-”

“Shut it, Skywalker!” Castille hisses and they pull their vibrosword from its hilt. “C’mon Mission. Show us where they took your friend. We need that base as soon as possible.”

Mission looks nervously between Anakin and Castille, giving a glance towards Carth who only nods and she nods back at him as she starts a slow jog towards the sewer entrance.

“The Gamorrean’s make their camp in the sewer, that’s also where the Vulkar Base’s entrance is. We shouldn’t be too long and you can get right back to finding your friend.”

-

Gamorreans, Anakin quickly learns, are not the smartest sentients to stalk the Undercity. He understands how creatures of their size could easily overpower a small girl and her Wookie friend due to the sheer number of their people, but a few timed blaster shots and vibroblade swings has the sewers cleared out in no time.

When they reach Zaalbar he isn’t hurt and Mission lets out a sigh of relief as she comes forward to embrace her friend.

“You didn’t think I would’ve forgotten about you, did you?” She says and Zaalbar affirms and pats her on the back, looking between the rest of the group.

His reply is a garble of growls and groans that they easily identify as Shyriiwook although only Mission can truly understand it.

“These are my new friends, without them I wouldn’t have been able to rescue you.” She answers Zaalbar.

Zaalbar seems to contemplate this and when he gives his response, Mission’s eyes widen along with Castille’s.

“Wait, the big oaf wants to come along with us?” Castille asks with disdain. Zaalbar turns on Castille at their comment with surprise.

“You can understand Zaalbar too?” Mission asks and Castille frowns.

“I can. I don’t know why though, I don’t particularly remember how I learned Shyriiwook. It’s just very present in my memory, the meanings come to me naturally. That’s not the point though - What does Zaalbar mean he wants to swear a life debt to me?”

Mission whistles long and low. “That’s big. It means wherever you go, Zaalbar wants to go too. Whatever you do and whatever you wish, Zaalbar will follow. It’s his way of repaying you three for saving him.” Mission turns to Zaalbar. “Are you sure Big Z? If you go with them, I’m going to.”

Zaalbar gives her a nod and Castille gives a shrug of nonchalance. “If he wants to come along who am I to stop him.”

After the reunion, Mission leads them to the Vulkar base’s doors.

“One secret way inside the Vulkar base. That was the deal wasn’t it?”

  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the boys are back together!!!  
> a ton of dialogue is taken directly from kotor, some of it's altered but i just wanna point that out in case anyone sees anything familiar cause chances are, it is.  
> unbeta'd

Infiltrating and retrieving the accelerator from the Black Vulkar’s base is probably one of the more easier missions Anakin has ever completed. The only injuries that were sustained was a nasty graze on Carth’s shoulder and a few sore legs from running through the sewers all night.

Gadon had welcomed them to stay at the Hidden Bek base for the night before the race and Castille had voiced their thanks profusely while cradling a cold pack to their bruised knees.

The morning after, Anakin had once again expected to wake to find himself back in the temple, he had meetings to attend to and he knows Ahsoka would kill him if he overslept. However, he only finds himself in the darkness of the shared room between him and Carth at the Bek’s base.

He’s never had a dream last this long before but he chalks it up to the journal just being weird again, and hopes that that’s all there is to it.

With Mission and Zaalbar staying behind, Carth, Revan, and Anakin meet with Gadon at the swoop garage to go over the plan one last time. 

“Castille, you seem to be the leader of this group. Did you want to volunteer to pilot in the race?”

Shifting nervously Castille eyes the swoop in the garage. “Why can’t one of your racers run? I’ve never flown or driven anything in my life.”

Gadon laughs, “The accelerator is a prototype. I can’t risk any of my men dying out there, but you three are total strangers. You’re the one who wants to win the girl back so you’re the one who gets to race.”

“Carth?” Castille asks the man with a raised eyebrow. “You’re a pilot.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Carth says with his hands out. “I fly  _ ships.  _ Not half-assedly put together bikes, this has disaster written all over it-”

“I’ll do it.” Anakin chimes in. “I used to podrace when I was a kid. This can’t be any different. These are custom-made bikes right?” He asks Gadon.

Gadon nods and moves over to the swoop bike, padding it hard on it’s metal nose. “Yup! I’ve never heard of podracing but swoop racing is one of the most popular sports around the galaxy. These bikes aren’t too tough to handle or maneuver if you say you’ve ridden something similar. You just have to be careful to change gears or the engine will overheat.”

Anakin steps over to Gadon to inspect the bike as well. It looks like any other speeder he’s ridden before except with two large engines outfitted on each side.

“Right.” He says, crossing his arms with a contemplative look. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Do I get a practice run?”

Shaking his head, Gadon pulls out a helmet from the driver seat and hands it to Anakin.

“No time, I’m afraid. I trust you to be capable enough to figure it out. Besides what have you got to lose?” He says with a wink that for a split second has Anakin forgetting the man is blind. Gadon’s words have a weight behind them that Anakin doesn’t have time to dwell on. He knows the dream-like universe of Revan’s that he’s become a part of is, to an extent, semi-aware of his existence. (Or wholly aware?) He doesn’t want to know if Gadon knows whether him winning this race or not has no affect on his physical outcome.

Not one to be nervous, Anakin turns to Carth and Castille, giving them a cocky grin. “Well, let’s head to the track, shall we?”

Gadon calls out to them with a short ‘Good luck!’ as they make their way from the garage to the racetrack and Castille gives Anakin a sharp look when they all hear Zaerdra tell Gadon,“We’re doomed.”

 

“Are you sure about this?” Carth whispers, following close behind Anakin. “I know I said I wouldn’t race at first but-” He’s cut off abruptly as Anakin stops in his tracks. Carth’s nose nearly colliding into Anakin’s shoulder.

He hears a sharp intake of breath from Anakin and moves to get a better look in front of the taller man. Carth puts a hand on Anakin’s arm firmly as he says in a hushed tone. “That woman in that cage, that’s Bastila!”

Next to the registration desk are two durasteel lined cages, the one Carth points out holds a young woman with brown hair tied neatly back in pigtails behind her head, padawan braids holding it in place. Her hands are cuffed and she’s stood upright due to the close quarters of the cage. Her eyes are closed and she sways back and forth as if in a trance. Bastila is barely clothed, she wears only a modest pair of tight leggings and a loose tank and the stranger next to her fairs no better.

“That’s Obi-Wan.” Anakin says through clenched teeth, staring at the cage next to Bastila’s. 

“Obi-Wan?” Carth responds although Anakin doesn’t answer.

“That’s the other Republic Officer Gadon mentioned. I’ve never seen them before in my life. You know them?” Carth asks.

Anakin still doesn’t reply and he looks torn between running towards the cages and freeing Obi-Wan himself, race forgotten. “That’s no Republic Officer.” He says, stalking towards the registration desk. He doesn’t even look the attendant in the eye as he passes them the identification card Gadon had provided him. “That’s my -” Anakin hesitates, steeling himself before continuing. “He’s someone important to me, you two wait here this’ll be quick.” Motioning to Castille and Carth to not make a move.

The attendant scans the card with tired eyes, gesturing towards the back doors.

“Race is solo-run. All you have to do is get the fastest time through the track compared to the other competitors.”

It’s simple enough, especially with no one else on the track to hinder him, and definitely less brutal than podracing. 

The competition moves swiftly enough and by the end of the day Anakin wins by a landslide time of forty seconds. Castille lets out a cheer when he walks from the track and he even sees Carth politely nod to him with a wide smile. An Ithorian exclaims something about rookie luck and the Duros at the registration desk throws theirs arms up to gather the attention of everyone.

“This year’s swoop race winner is the man from the Hidden Beks! I’m sure this victory will bring great honor to their ranks-”

He’s interrupted sharply by an approaching stranger with blazing eyes, geared head to toe in standard combat armor.

“People - hear me! The so called champion of the Beks you see before us cheated!”

“Brejik-” The Duros tries to calm the stranger but Brejik shakes his head.

“Your swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator - clearly an unfair advantage. I’m withdrawing the Vulkar’s share of the victory prize because of the Hidden Bek’s treachery.”

Anakin frowns and the Duros is seething with anger just as well.

“You can’t do this Brejik! You know the rules: nobody’s allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race. It goes against all our most sacred traditions!”

Brejik draws his gun, walking up to the Duros who cowers instantly. “Your traditions are nothing to me, If i want to withdraw the prize and sell these slaves to the market myself, nobody can stop me!”

“Oh shut up, already!” Castille cries out as they sling out their vibrosword from its sheathe. “I don’t care if you won’t give those people back to use fairly, I’ll take them from you myself!”

Just then, the bars of the durasteel cage swing open, Bastila on her feet as she harnesses the force to push the Trandoshan guard to the floor. 

“That’s impossible, you had a neural disruptor restraining you-” Brejik growls.

“You underestimate the strength of a Jedi’s mind, Brejik - a mistake you won’t live to regret!” Her accented voice clips.

“Vulkars!” Brejik calls and the racetrack erupts into a frenzy of vibroswords and blaster shots ringing against one another.

Brejik falls easily, as most non-force sensitive sentients do and Bastila points her sword at Castille’s chest once the Vulkar’s have all been cleared. Anakin and Carth rush to Castille’s side, Anakin shooting glances back to Obi-Wan’s cage, wanting to make sure Castille is safe before going to his side.

“You!” She shouts, “if you think you can collect me as a prize...Wait… I don’t believe this! You’re one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet, aren’t you? How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?” She lowers her sword. 

Castille gives her a standoffish look and puts their hands on their hips. “We were trying to rescue you!”

“Save me?” Bastila raises an eyebrow. “That’s what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race? Well, as far as rescues go this is a pretty poor example.”

Anakin groans, “You sound exactly like Obi-Wan.”

“Is that your friend who was also captured with me? Yes, well, we should probably go attend to him.” Bastila says promptly as she brushes aside Castille to go towards his cage. “In fact, it’s more accurate to say that I saved you.” She says as a passing statement to Castille when she walks by.

Castille frowns and Anakin ignores the both of them to break the locks of the cage. He catches Obi-Wan as the still mind-addled man falls forward weakly.

“I’m afraid your friend has had the worst of the neural disruption. His...condition-” Bastila says awkwardly. “He’s a Jedi, I know that much, but his connection to the force is weak due to the child he carries.”

“He’ll be okay won’t he?” Anakin asks, hands immediately checking Obi-Wan’s pulse and for any other sign of injury.

“Yes.” Bastila says with confidence. “Your friend will wake up in his own time. He will just need a little more rest than one would normally need.”

Brushing imaginary dust from her leggings, Bastila tilts her chin up politely. “No matter, let’s leave this place. I must speak to Carth and the three of you privately so we can figure out some way off this planet before the Sith realize we’re here.”

Arranging Obi-Wan in his arms so that he can lift him, Anakin slowly stands.

“We have an apartment in the Upper City. It’s where we’ve been regrouping while we were looking for you.” Carth says as he joins them in the elevator back to their apartment. “I’m glad you’re alive, Bastila.” He admits. “Finally, things are looking up. Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet.”

“You mean you don’t have a plan to get off Taris yet? What have you been doing all this time?” She asks with surprise.

“We were trying to find you, remember?” Castille’s voice laced with annoyance. They roll their eyes and Anakin leaves first when they reach their destination.

“We’re here. Castille can you get the door? Hands are kinda full.” He interrupts. The tension between Castille and Bastila is suffocating and while he understands Bastila’s attitude has been nothing short of rude he only cares about getting Obi-Wan somewhere he can rest.

Castille slides past Bastila, knocking into her almost purposefully with their shoulder and they slide their key card to open the apartment doors. Frown ever permanent on their face as Anakin, Bastila, and Carth all enter.

When Obi-Wan is finally situated on Anakin and Castille’s bunk, Anakin collapses next to him with a sigh of relief. He runs a hand through Obi-Wan’s bangs, brushing the hair back from his flushed face. Obi-Wan’s breath is shaky and despite Bastila’s promise of wellness, Anakin still worries for him. The tank he wears is similar to Bastila’s and leaves little to the imagination and he quickly moves to retrieve one of the extra jackets to wrap around him. Ever since the pregnancy he’s been forbidden from binding his chest at all, normally Jedi robes are roomy enough that it hasn’t been a problem but here in their dreams it seems the world isn’t as kind. He feels Obi-Wan shiver under his hands and he turns when he hears Castille’s steps.

“You said he was important to you.” Castille says as they walk up to him, handing him a thin military-grade blanket that he accepts with a quiet thank-you. “Are you the father?” Their words aren’t investigative, only curious and Anakin allows them this.

“Yes. He’s my-” Lover? Boyfriend? None of those words feel right despite the closeness of the two men and Anakin doesn’t take his eyes off Obi-Wan’s sleeping face. “There aren’t words for it.” He says awkwardly and Castille gives him an understanding nod.

“Sometimes all the words don’t fit. I hope he wakes up soon, he might be more helpful than Bastila at this rate.”

Casting a glance at Bastila, Anakin sees her eyes locked on the back of Castille’s head.

She clears her throat loudly and stands in the middle of the room. “Now that I’m back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you ‘rescued’ me from Bejik.”

“I know you’re new at this, Bastila, but a leader doesn’t berate her troops just because things aren’t going as planned. Don’t let your ego get in the way of the real issues here.” Carth speaks up, seemingly just as annoyed as Castille is now.

“That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way of addressing your commander, Carth. I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don’t forget that!” Bastila responds, voice level. “My Battle Meditation ability has helped the Republic many times in this war, and it will serve us well here I am sure.”

“Your talents might win us a few battles, but that doesn’t make you a good leader! A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will!” Carth replies stubbornly.

Leaning over, Castille murmurs to Anakin. “For once, I’m on his side. Who does this woman thinks she is?”

“She’s still a Padawan.” Anakin points out. “The beads in her hair do you see them? Why would the Republic make her the leader of such a critical mission like this? It’s irresponsible.”

Bastila turns to the both of them, ready to remind them that she can hear the both of them despite their whispers before Obi-Wan stirs with a groan.

“Hey, now-” Anakin says with a start, soothing hands covering Obi-Wan’s shoulders to stop him from getting up too suddenly. “You took a nasty hit to the head, how do you feel?”

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan says with confusion, lashes blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Where are we?”

Anakin hesitates, he can’t exactly tell Obi-Wan they’re in Revan’s time when Castille stands right in front of them, along with two other Republic officers.

“Taris. You remember Malak and the Sith? They control this planet.” He gestures to Castille aside him and fixes Obi-Wan with a serious look. “This is Castille. And that’s Carth over there. The woman in the orange robes is Bastila.”

Understanding Anakin’s lack of information Obi-Wan rises with his help. The blanket falls but he wraps the jacket more firmly around his shoulders. “I remember you.” He says to Bastila. “You’re the Jedi they sent to kill Revan.”

“And I did.” Bastila says firmly. “You’re a Jedi as well, although I don’t recognize your face at all. Are you from the Coruscanti temple? Or perhaps no temple at all. How does the Order fare with your condition?”

“My condition?” Obi-Wan asks in confusion and Anakin narrows his eyes at Bastila’s accusatory words. Obi-Wan’s hands move to cover his stomach in understanding.

“The Order doesn’t know, but that’s not important.”

“And you.” Bastila turns to Anakin. “You said you’re the father, so you’re a Jedi as well? Yet, you hid it, why?”

“It wasn’t important at the time. We’re not against you or Carth, Bastila. We all want off this rock.”

“We can’t get hung up on who’s in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off Taris.” Carth interjects.

“We’ll need help getting off Taris with the blockade.” Bastila admits, attention on Carth and away from Anakin and Obi-Wan. “Maybe if we ask around one of the locals can help us out. We should start by asking around in the cantinas.”

“We already did that.” Castille says sitting next to Anakin on the bunk.

“Well, it won’t hurt to ask again.” Bastila replies. “We can all regroup here and depart in the morning.” She says in acknowledgement to Obi-Wan. “You both stray from the ideals of the Order yet you aren’t Sith. How did you end up on Taris?”

“We don’t know.” Anakin says. He knows this is a dream but he truly doesn’t have an answer. “We were both on the Endar Spire when it went down, last minute additions but Carth said you requested me on the roster specifically.”

“I did?” Bastila says with confusion. “Strange. You are both Jedi Masters?”

Obi-Wan shifts uncomfortably and nods. “Jedi Knights, yes. Masters, no.” Anakin turns to Obi-Wan with a questioning look and he shakes his head. He wants to be equals amongst these strangers and divulging their entire history would contrast with what Bastila knows of the current council. “We were planning on leaving the Order after the child is born.” Obi-Wan lies, best to make up a false history here while he can. “A war is hardly a place to raise a child don’t you think?”

“I cannot say, being a Jedi it seems war is never ending.” Bastila contemplates. “With Revan dead and the Mandalorians defeated, all that remains is Malak. Perhaps the world will be at peace when your child is born.”

Obi-Wan smiles at her simple thinking and Anakin and Castille stare at the older man in astonishment. It seems despite Bastila’s brashness they get along just fine. Anakin was right, they have way too much in common. It doesn’t unease him but he finds the entire situation ironic.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs across the apartment, Bastila crosses her legs and sets her lightsaber down on the table in front of her.

“I would like to know what happened after you all crashed on Taris. I’m curious to what you and Carth were doing before we all joined forces.”

“Before we rescued you, you mean.” Castille pipes in, not one to let something go.

“I managed to free myself, as I recall. In fact, if i hadn’t been there Brejik and his thugs might have killed you in that fight. It’s probably more accurate to say that I rescued you.”

“You just learned these two are Jedi Knights and you’re saying a couple of gang thugs would’ve knocked us out?” Castille says throwing a thumb over to Anakin and Obi-Wan. “Why can’t you just admit we helped you?”

“Yes… well. I hardly consider myself a damsel in distress. I’m a member of the Jedi Order, after all. But I won’t deny you’ve impressed me with what you’ve done, Castille. When you were chosen to join this mission, I doubt any of us expected this much from you. A Jedi could have done such things, of course but only by drawing heavily upon the Force.”

Throwing their hands in the air with frustration, Castille begins to groan before cutting off suddenly. “Wait- Are you trying to say I can control the Force?”

“You hold that vibroblade like a lightsaber.” Anakin cuts in and Bastila gives him a disapproving look that he can’t quite place if it’s because it sounded like an innuendo or if she truly dislikes him.

“There are some individuals outside the Jedi order that we considered ‘Force Sensitive’.” Bastila continues. “It is obvious to me that the Force has been working through you. There is no other explanation for your great success, though I am not certain what to make of this discovery.”

Bastila shifts, staring at her lap intently. “Perhaps if you weren't - well, if you were younger the Jedi might take you for training. But as it is…”

“The council makes more exceptions than you know.” Obi-Wan adds.

“What are you trying to say?” Castille asks with disbelief. It’s with the honesty in their voice that Anakin now knows that Castille is being truthful in their lack of knowledge about Revan and their identity.

“I’m sorry; I’ve overstepped my authority. I’m speaking of things that are best left to the Jedi Council. For now let’s just accept the fact that you are… gifted. Perhaps with our combined abilities and that of our new companions we can find a quick escape off this planet.” She says with finality. “Seeing as you two are not Masters, but still rank above me I believe I am still to address you as Masters…?” Bastila trails.

“Kenobi and Skywalker.” Anakin answers. He knows Obi-Wan is just as uncomfortable with the title as he is but he doesn’t want Bastila to believe they are any more unorthodox than they already are.

“Yes, thank you. Master Kenobi can share the bunk with Master Skywalker seeing as they know each other the closest. That leaves one last bunk for the three of us to sort out.” She says referring to Castille and Carth.

Castille shrugs, standing from Anakin’s bunk and walking to the other. “If no one else minds I don’t mind sharing with someone too.” They say, already removing their boots to prepare for bed.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Carth offers. “I’ve had worse.”

Bastila opens her mouth to counter but she closes it after a moment. Maybe standing all day in the cage has actually affected her because she turns to remove her utility belt and lay beside Castille without further argument.

Carth lays their bags and discarded clothes into a pile on the floor before turning off the lights and resting atop the scattered belongings.

The room is quiet, Castille’s breathing is a little heavier than the rest of theirs and soon soft snoring can be heard. Carth and Bastila don’t budge and Anakin still sits on the edge of the bunk, staring into the darkness of the room. Obi-Wan tugs at Anakin’s sleeve, urging the man to rest and Anakin complies in silence. He removes the Republic grade armor along with his boots and the leather glove. He feels Obi-Wan behind him, brushing a hand through his hair and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“Come. Sleep.” Obi-Wan whispers, arms coming up to urge Anakin to lay down against him. 

Anakin turns in Obi-Wan’s arms, kissing the man on the forehead before holding him tighter. “How are you feeling?”

Obi-Wan chuckles at Anakin’s insistent worrying and tucks the blanket around them, burying his face into the space between Anakin’s collarbone and shoulder. “I’m fine, you know how things tend to pan out in these situations.”

Anakin closes his eyes, he has so much he wants to ask Obi-Wan, to discuss regarding Castille and Bastila and their entire predicament but he knows it best to be quiet for now.

“I just want all of this to be over soon.” He admits into the night. He feels Obi-Wan’s hand rubbing his side in a comforting gesture.

“I know, Anakin. I’m glad that you’re here now.” Obi-Wan says softly. Anakin can’t make out his expression, only see the glint of light from the moons of Taris reflecting in his eyes.

“Time is strange here, did you really miss me?” Anakin asks.

The hand at his side stills and Obi-Wan moves it to cup Anakin’s cheek, eyes meeting in the dark. “I don’t tell you this very often but it pains me to be away from you for too long. I want you at my side, wherever that may be.”

Anakin moves to kiss Obi-Wan, an answer in itself to Obi-Wan’s confession and he revels in the soft sigh Obi-Wan gives when they part.

“I love you.” Obi-Wan whispers into his mouth. Despite all their time together, Obi-Wan’s admission is still shy, given to Anakin with hesitation.

Anakin had been misunderstanding of Obi-Wan’s feelings at first, if the other man had truly held back in some sort of fashion due to a reluctance in their relationship. He knows now that Obi-Wan is afraid. Afraid of Anakin’s rejection, afraid of what will become of them. His love of Anakin is a frightening thing, to hold so much trust and devotion to one person.

“I…” Anakin says with heat blossoming in his chest. “I love you, too.” He says easily. It feels so impersonal, given that Anakin loves without abandon, that he knows it must take everything out of Obi-Wan to leave him so vulnerable like this. He doesn’t know how to reciprocate the feelings he wants to convey and so he kisses Obi-Wan once again. He entwines Obi-Wan’s fingers between the ones of his cybernetic one, running his thumb over Obi-Wan’s hand.

Obi-Wan smiles into the kiss, parting reluctantly before it can go any further.

“We have a big day ahead of us, we shouldn’t wake the others.” Obi-Wan says, tone soft and eyes lidded.

Exhaustion takes ahold of Anakin as well and he holds Obi-Wan close to him as he wonders when they’ll wake to Coruscant’s skies once more.


End file.
